


The Saviour and the Saint

by Dinosauntor



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alex is Marlene, Complicated Relationships, Denial of Feelings, F/F, Fireflies, I don't hate James but he is...not a good guy here, Kara is Ellie, Lena is Joel, a good time for this story?, acceptance of feelings, innocent looking but not-so-innocent Kara Danvers, or maybe a bad time, rebel gunrunner Lena Luthor, survival Supercorp, there's dirt and adrenaline and emotional trauma, which makes for good angst AND fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:54:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 68,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23624944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dinosauntor/pseuds/Dinosauntor
Summary: The Cordyceps virus has spread across the globe in an outbreak of violent proportions, and Lena Luthor is just one of many refugees eking out a barely-comfortable survival in the militant-run streets of Boston. But when she's suddenly forced into what was supposed to be a routine smuggling job, she must use her wits to survive and deliver a unique package to the last hope humanity has left.---“You'll keep me afloat,” Kara says frantically, eyes ripping open Lena's chest.“Kara,” Lena warns, giving her a sardonic glare. “There is nothing more we can do! This is the end of the line.”Kara's pupils dilate as Lena glares, her throat bobbing thickly. “No time to argue.”Lena is already lunging for the blonde, tendons in her body straining in desperation for the outstretched hand, so she gets a front-row seat to the next five horrific seconds of her life.“Kara!”---The Last of Us AU
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Kara Danvers/Lucy Lane, Lena Luthor/Veronica Sinclair
Comments: 30
Kudos: 194





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you've played The Last of Us than you know this is a pandemic story. It was on my mind for a while and roared back to life with what's going on. Enjoy!

**Prologue**

_Lena shuffled around in her sleep, lying on the couch. She had fallen asleep waiting for her brother to come home; he was working a job and called to tell her he'd be late._

_The door opened with a bang and Lex's voice was rough in the darkness._

“ _James, I—James. James, listen to me. He is the contractor. He's the contractor, okay? I can't lose this job.”_

_There was a pause as James said something over the phone and Lex let out a frustrated breath._

“ _I understand...I—let's talk about this in the morning, okay?” He flicked a light on and Lena yawned, stretching out of her cramped position on the couch. “We'll talk about it in the morning. Alright. Goodnight.”_

_The phone clattered onto the coffee table and Lena smiled sleepily up at her brother. “Hey.”_

_He tossed his keys next to the phone and waved a lazy arm at her. “Scoot.”_

“ _Fun day at work, huh?” she teased, propping her knees up on the cushions to make room for his lanky frame and long legs._

_With an exhausted sigh, Lex tried to find a comfortable position on the couch. “What are you still doing up? It's late.”_

“ _Oh shit, what time is it?” Craning her neck, Lena glanced at the clock on the wall behind her._

“ _It's way past your bedtime.”_

“ _I'm not a kid, Lex. I'm thirteen,” she snorted. “And it's still today.” She crawled off the couch to where she'd hidden his birthday present as he rubbed at his eyes with a grimy hand._

 _Knowing she would eventually get her way like she always did with him, he tried again._ “ _Lee, please. Not right now. I do **not** have the energy for this.”_

_Despite her comment a second ago, Lena's expression was endearingly childlike as she held out the plain box. “Here,” she said with a grin._

“ _What's this?” He questioned, reaching out to take it, never able to deny her anything. He stared at it, not sure what to do with it._

_Lena gave him a 'duh' expression. “Your birthday.”_

_He gave her a tired but grateful smile and opened the box. A shiny watch gleamed up at him, nestled between the white velvet cushions. He had no idea how she'd scrounged up enough cash to afford it and he sighed._

“ _You kept complaining about your broken watch,” she started, with the enthusiasm of someone who's just done something right, “So I figured. You know.”_

_He leaned forward to put the box down, draping the watch over his wrist._

“ _You like it?” she said with an eager expression as his fingers fiddled with the strap._

“ _Lena, this is...” He held it up to his ear, adopting a disappointed expression.  
  
“What?” She looked crestfallen._

_He tapped the face a few times to sell the prank. “It's nice, but I...I think it's stuck, I—”_

“ _What? No, no, no.” She reached for it, the beginnings of disappointment on her face, then smacked his arm when she saw his ruse. “Oh, ha ha.” She lay back down, folding her arms under her head and resting her legs across his knees._

“ _Where did you get the money for this?” He was admiring the mechanism, setting the hands to the right time._

“ _Drugs,” she said bluntly, giving him a sly smile. The one where he could never tell if she was serious or not. “I sell hardcore drugs.”_

“ _Oh good.” He reached for the remote. It was definitely possible that she did, she had a wickedly sharp mind and with the way they had to scrape by, he wouldn't have been that surprised. “You can start helping out with the mortgage then.”_

“ _Yeah, you wish.”_

_The TV announcer was narrating a baseball game and Lena quickly fell asleep to the boring sports commentary. Her brother looked over an hour later, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. Ever since their parents had died in a freak accident in the belly of the city's laboratories, he'd had to raise his sister. Six years her senior, it had been half a decade since the accident and he saw himself as her father figure more than anything else, there to protect her from the rest of the world. Sometimes when it got to be too much, the odd jobs and bad hours, he would take a day off work and spend it with his sister, who was studying so she could make her way up in the world. Maybe he would do that tomorrow._

_Sliding an arm under her knees and another around her back, he carried her up the stairs to her bedroom and the tiny twin mattress that sat by the wall. He lay her down and brushed her long, dark hair back, careful not to wake her._

“ _Good night, baby girl.”_

* * *

The phone rings in the early hours of the morning and Lena reaches for it with a clumsy hand, answering it with a sleepy “Hello?”

“Lena!” The voice on the other end is frantic, breathless. “I need you to get your brother on the phone.”

“James? What time is it?” She's confused and half-asleep, and he interrupts her.

“I need to talk to your brother now. There's some—”

The call cuts off and a busy tone blares in her ear.

“James? Hello?” A strange feeling crawls up her spine and she hangs up the phone, getting out of bed.

_What was that all about?_

Her familiar posters adorn the walls, the bookshelf is filled with novels from the secondhand store down the street and her parents' collection of literature and textbooks. Leaving her bedroom, she walks down the hall, calling out for her brother.

“Lex?”

In the bathroom the Texas Herald's top headline reads; “ _Admittance Spikes at Area Hospitals!”_ She files it to the back of her mind and starts walking to his bedroom, calling his name.

“Lex? Where are you?”

Normally he would've answered her by now, or she would have found a note saying he was away on a job. He's left the television on, too, so she pushes her way into the dingy master bedroom.

“ _It appears that what we initially reported as riots seem to be somehow connected to the nationwide pandemic. We've received reports that victims afflicted with the infection show signs of increased aggression and—”_

“ _We need to move everybody out of here now. There's a gas leak.”_

“ _Hey, move!”_

“ _There seems to be some commotion coming from behi—”_

“ _Get out of here!”_

“ _Lady, get the hell out—”_

As she watches the live feed, the building behind the news reporter explodes and the screen turns to grey static.

_What was that?_

She can't shake the feeling that something is wrong and just as she's trying to decide her next move, a loud boom rings out from outside.

She's never heard the sound first hand but she knows without a doubt that it's a gunshot.

_Oh god._

Peering through the dirty window, she can't make out anything but the lights in the faraway city, and when she calls out for her brother again, this time worry bleeds into her voice.

“Lex?”

“Lex!”

Police sirens flash by the house and somewhere to her left Lex's familiar ringtone starts playing.

_Why doesn't he have his phone with him?_

_Where is he?_

_Eight missed calls from James?_

She hears a cry outside and makes her way to their father's old office just as Lex runs through the sliding glass door, grunting and panting.

“There you are,” she says, relief plain in her voice.

“Lena.” He's frantic, breathless, and looks like he's seen a ghost. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she says slowly as he rifles through the desk drawers looking for something.

“Has anyone come in here?”

“No...” Her voice hitches as he pulls out a box, unfamiliar metallic sounds coming from the object inside. “Who would come in here?”

“Don't go near the doors,” he instructs loudly, checking the chamber of the gun. “Just...” The bullets clink as he loads them. “Just stand back there.”

“Lex, you're kinda freaking me out.” She follows his demand, taking a step back into the shadows of the office. “What's going on?” She didn't even know her father had a gun. Had Lex bought it when their parents had died? She knew they didn't live in the best part of town, but still...

“It's the Coopers,” he explains in a panicked voice. “Something ain't right with them. I think they're sick.” He says it like it's a death sentence and Lena struggles to keep up.

“What kinda sick?” she asks, just as something bangs against the sliding glass door.

They both gasp loudly. “Jesus,” Lex curses, automatically putting his body between hers and the door. “John?” he calls out cautiously.

“Lex?” Lena's uncertain voice wavers in the dark.

“Lee, c'mere. C'mere.” He puts an arm in front of her, holding the revolver out with the other. “John,” he calls out again. Something is repeatedly crashing into the glass and Lena gasps with every sound of impact, her heart racing in her chest. She screams when, with a loud crash, the body of a man forces its way through the glass, leaving shattered crystal over the floor of the office

“John, just stay back!” Lex yells, cocking the gun. “John, I am warning you!”

The body pulls itself off the floor and lunges for them and Lena screams again just as Lex shouts “Don't!”

The flash and bang of the gun blind and deafen her but in the split second as the powder ignites, she gets a good look at their longtime neighbor John Cooper. He's a nice man, has hosted barbecues and block parties and always invites them, even brings over a pie on Thanksgiving and Christmas.

The last time she sees him, his arms are gloved in crimson to the elbow and blood stains his business suit and tie. His face is a grotesque mess of gore and blood, and she gasps as his body thuds to the ground, dead at her brother's hand.

“Go. Go!” Lex shout-whispers to her, dragging her out of the office.

“You—you shot him,” she says, shell-shocked. “I...I saw him yesterday afternoon, I...”

“Lena, listen to me. There is something bad going on.” He's breathing fast, holding her by the shoulders to ground her, forcing her to look him in the eye. He looks terrified. “We have got to get out of here. Do you understand me?”

With a sniffle, she nods, still not processing the situation. Lex just shot John Cooper in their house. He's covered in his blood, that's how close they were when he pulled the trigger. “Yeah,” she says, nodding again.

“James,” Lex says, like he's just thought of an idea. “C'mon. C'mon!” He grabs her by the arm and it's all she can do to keep up with him as he runs out to the porch.

Headlights blind her as the door opens and James' familiar voice greets them but it's harsh and frantic, just like her brother's.

“Where the hell you been? You have any idea what's going on out there?”

“I got some notion,” Lex retorts, pulling Lena to the car.

“Holy shit,” James breathes.

“C'mon, baby girl. Go on in there.” Lex ignores James' comment, helping Lena into the car. She gets in without a word of protest, sitting down on the familiar leather seat. She has the feeling this ride isn't going to be like last month's, when they sang along to the radio and drove to the nearby fishing pond.

“You got blood all over you!”

“It ain't mine. Let's just get out of here.” Lex's no-nonsense attitude cuts off James' questions.

“They're saying that half the people in the city have lost their minds,” James says as the two men climb into the car.

“Can we please just go?” Lex pleads harshly, looking back at Lena's scared face in the backseat.

“Some sort of parasite of something,” James continues. He's always been the kind of man that needs to fill the silence, and in the midst of this strange crisis, he's no different. “You gonna tell me what happened?”

“Later,” Lex says gruffly.

James reverses out of their driveway, giving Lena a weak smile. “Hey, Lena. How you holding up, honey?”

“I'm fine,” Lena answers, hugging her knees to her chest. Lex is always getting on her about wearing a seat belt, but she doesn't think that'll be a problem this time. “Can we hear what's on the radio?”

“Yeah, sure thing,” James agrees easily.

“Thanks.”

Nothing happens, just a crackle as he flips through the stations.

“No cellphone. No radio. Yeah, we're doing great,” James grumbles, pulling onto a main road. “Minute ago, the newsman wouldn't shut up.”

“They say where to go?”

“He said, uh...” James tries to recall what he just heard. “Army's putting up roadblocks on the highway.” The streetlights filter through the car as they speed up, trying to put distance between them and their house. “No getting into Travis County.”

“That means we need to get the hell out,” Lex says through gritted teeth. “Take 71.”

Two more police cars speed past them going left, and they turn right.

“Did they say how many are dead?” Lena asks timidly from the backseat, her hand on Lex's shoulder.

“Probably a lot. Found this one family all mangled inside their house,” Tommy answers, focused on the road.

“James,” Lex says in a warning tone. He's trying to protect his sister as much as he can, and she doesn't need to know the details. Even if she has just watched him kill a man.

“Right. Sorry,” James says, contrite.

The headlights illuminate a car that's bent around a sign, and Lex exhales sharply. “Jesus Christ, how did this happen?”

“They got no clue. But we ain't the only town.” James navigates the roads with ease, even in the dark. “At first they were saying it was just the South. Now they're going on about the East Coast, the West Coast...Holy hell.”

They're driving past a farm that Lena can't recognize in the dark, but James seems to know exactly where they are.

“That's Louis' farm. I hope that son of a bitch made it out.” His tone makes it clear he doesn't think that's the case, and Lena swallows. She's played hide a seek in that barn with Louis' nieces.

“I'm sure he did.” Lex doesn't sound convinced.

A thought strikes her and Lena speaks up. “Are we sick?”

Her brother's response is immediate and firm. “No. No, of course not.”

“How do you know?”

James takes that question. “They said it's just, uh, people in the city. We're good.”

“Didn't Tommy work in the city?”

“That's right, he did.” Lex clears his throat, his eyes on the road, but his hand reaches back to wind their fingers together. “We're fine. Trust me.”

Finding comfort in her brother's touch, Lena shrugs. “Alright.”

James slows down at the sight of three people on the side of the road. “Let's see what they need.”

“What the hell do you think you're doing? Keep driving,” Lex instructs, letting go of Lena's hand.

“They got a kid, Lex,” James points out.

“So do we.” By now, the family has noticed the approaching vehicle and the man turns around, waving his arms.

“But we have room,” Lena pipes up, seeing the three miserable figures in front of the speed limit sign.

“Hey!” The man calls out, waving his arms up and down.

“Keep driving, James,” Lex demands.

“Hey, stop! _Stop!_ ”

Lena turns to watch the three people fade into pinpricks through the cracked rear window, her heart clenching at the prospect of abandoning them as Lex grumbles under his breath.

“You ain't seen what I seen. Someone else will come along.” He doesn't convince any of them.

Lena sniffles. “We should've helped them.”

Everywhere they go the roads are blocked off and an ambulance drives by them. They come upon a backed up exit and in the headlights they can see a sort of fight going on.

“Hey, what the fuck man? Let's go!” Someone honks his horn and yells at a figure standing in the road.

Before any of them can react, the figure in the road seizes the driver and rips him out of his car, beating him to the ground. A vicious snarl is coming from the throat of another person on foot, who leaps in through the open door and attacks whatever unfortunate soul is in the passenger seat.

“Holy shit,” James says under his breath.

“Turn us around. James. James! Turn us around!” Lex is yelling as James and Lena watch on in horrified fascination. It's not until one of the figures starts to run for their car that James snaps into action, reversing and peeling away just as the creature's hands hit his rear bumper.

“What the fuck just happened?” James shouts, accelerating down the dark street away from the chaos. “What the fuck just happened—did you see that?”

“Yes, I saw it. Just drive.”

They reach the town and it's filled with people on foot, running from some unseen terror. As they make their way through the crowd, passing alley after alley, Lena realizes she hasn't breathed in at least a minute.

Headlights shine directly into her eyes and she barely has time to yell “Look out!” before the other car smashes into the side of their truck, sending her flying.

* * *

She manages to rouse herself a few minutes later and everywhere she looks is chaos. The car is on its side, people are screaming, and a downed electrical wire is spewing sparks. Lex is passed out in the front seat and James is nowhere to be seen.

“Lex?” She reaches over and shakes his arm. He's wearing the watch she gave him, she notices, but it's insignificant in the midst of this crisis. “Hey. Hey!”

He groans, lifting his head a few inches. “What?” When he takes in the riot through the broken windshield, he reaches for her arm.

“Get back, Lee. Get back.”

Bracing himself against the roof of the car, he kicks at the windshield until it crumples under his work boots, leaving him enough room to crawl out onto the pavement. Just as he's getting his bearings, something comes at him, snarling and drooling, and pins him to the side of the car. Lena watches in horror as he tries to fight it off but thankfully, James comes out of nowhere and bashes its head in with a brick with a single, brutal blow.

James and Lex share a look, both of them grateful.

“Lex?” Lena calls from the car.

He kneels down, reaching an arm out to her. “I'm here, baby girl. Come on, give me your hand.” He pulls her from the wreckage and only then does she feel the pain, sharp and hot, in her leg. He notices immediately, supporting her weight and peering into her eyes.

“What is it?”

“My leg hurts,” she gets out in a strained voice.

“How bad?”

“Pretty bad,” she admits, grimacing, but trying to put on a brave face. Lex sees through it in an instant and his brow furrows, panic and worry spreading across his features like a wildfire.

Watching their surroundings, James clenches his jaw. “We're gonna need to run,” he says, looking at her with concern.

“Oh my god,” Lex says under his breath. He reaches into his waistband and hands James the gun he killed John with. “You keep us safe,” he instructs, then sweeps Lena into his arms. “Come on, baby girl. Hold on tight.”

“Okay,” she says into his chest, and then they're running.

Explosions boom around them and people are screaming, and Lena starts crying into his chest.

“Lex, I'm scared.”

“Keep your eyes closed,” he instructs. But it's hard to keep her eyes closed when she _has_ to know what's going on, needs to see what it is they're fighting. Her brain won't turn off until she knows what's happening.

“Those people are on fire,” she says quietly, dread making her stomach go cold.

“Don't look, Lee.”

“Okay.”

The motion of his running is jarring, and she has to grit her teeth against the pain in her leg.

“Just keep looking at me, baby girl.”

James is fighting off creatures that are coming at them left and right, and as they bolt through a door, he throws his weight behind it.

“Get to the highway!” His shout is hoarse but his eyes are determined as they gleam in the dark, meeting Lex's green ones.

“What?”

“You got Lena, go! I can outrun them!”

“James?!” Lena says, fear making her voice shake.

In a snap decision, Lex starts to turn away from James and the creatures behind the door. “I will meet you there,” he says with finality, picking up the pace.

“Lex, we can't leave him!”

“He'll be fine. We're almost there,” Lex comforts her, running up a hill past something that looks like a man dragging himself up. Two of them are about to attack when bullets strafe the air around them, cutting down the creatures in seconds. A bright light shines in their faces and Lex turns so Lena isn't blinded.

“It's okay, baby girl, we're safe. Hey,” he raises his voice, “We need help!”

“Stop!” A dark figure holding the flashlight and a gun is standing a few meters away.

“It's my sister,” Lex calls out. “I think her leg's broken.”

“Stop right there!”

“Okay, we are not sick,” Lex says slowly, backing away.

The man ignores him. “Got a couple of civilians on the outer perimeter. Please advise...Sir, there's a young girl. But...Yes, sir.”

“Listen, buddy, we've just been through hell.” Lex takes a few steps forward and the man raises his flashlight silently, blinding Lena with the beam. “We just need...oh, shit.”

He realizes what the soldier is going to do a second before Lena does and is twisting his body as fast as it will let him to block her from the barrage of bullets. She screams as she's torn from his arms, her body making contact with the ground and sending spikes of agony up and down her entire body. Through a haze of pain she sees the soldier standing over her brother, gun raised, and she's about to cry out when a single gunshot echoes.

The soldier falls over sideways, dead, and James hurries over.

“Oh, no,” he breathes, staring at Lex.

Lena looks over at her brother. He hasn't moved since the burst of gunfire, and she drags herself over to him, her useless leg trailing in the dirt behind her. She can't even feel that it's broken because all she can see is the red staining his shirt in several places, the dirt growing darker underneath his back, and all she can hear is James' heavy breathing in the dark beside her.

“Lex?!”

He's letting out horrible, gasping noises, like a fish out of water, and as she rolls him onto his side she can see the full extent of his sacrifice.

“Move your hands!” Her voice is desperate, the pain in her leg completely forgotten at the sight of Lex's blood. “You're going to be fine.” Her voice shakes as her brother's chest heaves up and down, blood staining his lips and dripping off his chin. Most of the bullets hit his back, but one is a direct hit to his gut—how she didn't get hit, she'll never know—and she presses her hands into the wound.

“Baby...girl…”

He lets out a weak groan and she can feel the tears dripping down her face, mixing with his blood and the dirt. “I know, I know. I know it hurts, but you're going to be okay. Stay with me, Lex,” she pleads, even as his breaths turn to gasps. She tries to pick him up but he's too heavy for her and he falls back down to the ground with a watery gasp.

“Lex.”

His arms are limp and hanging as she supports his head and something icy and unforgiving has settled in her chest even as her heart breaks, a dull crack that she knows she'll feel for years to come—if she lives that long.

“Lex!”

He isn't making those horrible noises anymore, the noises that mean he's breathing through his own blood.

“Please don't do this to me,” she begs, the searing though of how she's the only one left burning a hole through her brain. “No, no! Please!"

But it's too late. His eyes are glazing over and maybe it's her imagination but his skin already feels cold to the touch.

"Oh, God,” she says brokenly, aware that James is crying somewhere to her left. “Please don't do this.”

“Oh, God.”

* * *

**Chapter One**

**Summer, 10 Years Later**

“ _...Vaccinations have failed...”_

“ _...The death count is over 200, with more cities being affected every week by the Cordyceps fungus...”_

“ _...Riots continue for the third consecutive day...”_

“ _...Los Angeles is the third city to be placed under martial law...”_

“ _...Fireflies have taken responsibility for the last three attacks against military lockdowns...”_

“ _...Rations are running low all across the country...”_

“ _...You can still rise with us. Remember when you're lost in the darkness, look for the light. Believe in the Fireflies...”_

A knock at the door pulls Lena out of her nightmares and she sits bolt upright, gasping. The knock comes again, more insistent, and she lets out an annoyed groan.

“I'm coming,” she calls out, stretching her tired limbs. Her body speaks of years of surviving; gone are any remnants of baby fat and though she has a figure most women can only dream of, it's scarred and wiry and there's a harsh ruggedness to her features that gives her a perpetually surly expression.

Opening the door, she's greeted by a pissed looking Veronica.

“How was your morning?” she says sardonically, heading straight for the bottle of whiskey.

“Where were you, Vee?” Lena frowns as the Asian woman sips the drink.

After a pause, Veronica answers her. “West End district. We had a drop to make.” She says it like it justified leaving Lena on her own to worry about her partner.

“We,” Lena echoes, clenching her fist around a rag. “ _We_ had a drop to make.”

Veronica takes the cloth from her, shooting her a glance. “Yeah, well. You wanted to be left alone, remember?”

Of course Lena remembers. It's exactly ten years ago to the day since her brother died in her arms. Since her brother died for her. The last ten years have been hard, making their meager existence as orphans seem like a first-class flight, but she's endured. If not for herself, to make her brother's sacrifice worthwhile. She's thought about it, thought about taking one of the guns she trades illegally and blowing her brains out, but she never does.

After all, who would she be if she just gave up?

“I take it the deal went south and the client made off with our pills, is that about right?”

Veronica's sarcastic chuckle is annoying this early in the morning. “Deal went off without a hitch. Enough ration cards to last us a couple months, easy.”

Lena just frowns. “You want to explain this?” She gestures to the cut on Veronica's cheek, clearly left by an angry fist or the butt of a pistol. As annoyed as she is, she always worries about the younger woman. Veronica is only 20 and Lena's taught her everything she knows. If anything happened to her, it would be Lena's fault.

Veronica rolls her eyes. “I was on my way back here and I got jumped by these two assholes, alright?” She takes another sip of her drink, holding the rag to her face. “Yeah, they got a few good hits in, but...Look, I managed.”

Walking over with her hands on her hips, Lena purses her lips. “Give me that.” Her voice is rough but her hands are soft as she dabs at the cut, the white rag soaking up the blood that's become all too present in her life. “And are these assholes still with us?”

With a snort, Veronica grins. “That's funny. But that's not what matters. What matters is Robert fucking sent them.”

Lena takes a step back. “Our Robert?” This betrayal in a long line of betrayals isn't completely unexpected, but it's a kick to the gut. “He knows we're after him?”

“Yeah, he does. But lucky for us, I know where he's hiding.”

Narrowing her eyes, Lena takes a swig from the bottle. “Like hell you do.” She's already forming a plan of revenge, how she'll punish him for what he did to Veronica.

“Old warehouse in Area 5,” Veronica says with a smirk. “You ready to go?”

“I'm always ready,” Lena shoots back, sliding a gun into her waistband.

* * *

They make their way through the city, sneaking through the passages and gates only they have access to. They see a woman get executed on their way to the checkpoint. A man tries to run from the guards and they shoot him in the back, and the only thing Lena feels is annoyance at the noise.

As they near a checkpoint, a truck blows up and the Fireflies, the band of rebels, make themselves known. With an annoyed groan, Veronica changes their route. The watches let them by as Veronica chats them up, grinning at her swinging hips and flashing smile.

“How come everyone lets you through?” Lena grumbles, not for the first time. People know her, but they _like_ Veronica.

“Because I'm a beautiful young woman,” Veronica quips, crouching down under a board. “And because I say more than five words a day.”

“I say more than five words a day,” Lena protests.

“Yeah, to _me._ Not to anyone else.”

As they're stocking up on guns, Lena watches Veronica load a pistol like she's buttering toast, casual and a little sloppy. “Be careful,” she says, her voice softening.

“When am I not?”

Lena huffs, slinging a backpack over her shoulders. “Is that a trick question?” She holds open the door and they emerge onto an abandoned street. An old building has been taken over by foliage, and trees are growing through the pavement. “I haven't been out here in a while,” she comments, trailing after Veronica. She's content just to take in the view, breathing cleaner air than inside the city walls.

“It's like we're on a date,” Veronica says sarcastically.

“Well, I am the romantic type,” Lena shoots back, watching where she steps.

Veronica gives her a flirty wink and Lena rolls her eyes. “You've got your ways.”

When they come across spores in a broken-down building, they're immediately cautious, slipping gas masks on and crouching low, weapons at the ready. Lena almost jumps out of her skin when something grabs at her ankle and a wheezing breath comes up from the floor as her gun cocks. She's peering through the air down the sights when the dry whisper breaks the silence.

“Help me...my mask broke.”

It's a man, soon to be a monster. He's coughing, and for a second Lena is transported back to the night her brother died, coughing up his own blood.

“Don't...don't leave me to turn. Please.”

Closing her eyes against the memories, Lena shoots him in the head and turns away without a second glance.

“Hardcore, Luthor.”

“Let's just keep moving.” Picking up stray ammo, they reach a hallway full of the infected. They're clicking away, the dreaded noise that haunts Lena's nightmares, and it takes them a few minutes to dispose of the creatures. Lena strangles the ones that aren't paying attention and takes the rest of them out with head shots, and Veronica whistles, giving her a playful slap on the ass when she's killed the last one.

They emerge in the fresh air then enter another building, this one less broken down. Veronica nods to a kid who lets them through another hallway, and Lena scoffs.

“You know he's expecting us, right?”

“That'll make it more interesting.” Veronica smiles back at her and they move through the small tents and RV's that make up the site.

“Hey, pretty lady,” A man calls from underneath a tent.

“Not now,” Veronica brushes him off, walking on.

“Come on, Vee. I heard you just—”

“I said not now, Terrence.” She keeps walking and Lena smiles to herself. If these men knew they weren't Veronica's type, they wouldn't have access to half the city.

Walking past a fight club, Lena watches in disdain as one man lands punch after punch, the sound of knuckles striking flesh echoing in her ears. The man getting beaten to a pulp is shoddy at best; he never throws a proper punch and can't defend his head for the life of him, but he's at least a head taller than his opponent. A broad-shouldered, dark-haired man stands up to block her way and she eyes him in annoyance.

“Where do you think you're going?” he grumbles, glaring at her.

From behind her, Veronica chastises him. “Malick, sit back down. She's with me.”

“Oh, sorry Vee.” He apologizes quickly, smiling at her. “Didn't realize you two were together.”

“Who was that?” Lena asks when they're out of earshot.

“An old headache. Don't ask.”

And she doesn't. Veronica's past is shrouded in mystery, almost as much as her own. She knows that she was raised in the city and that they met up when Lena first arrived in Boston. Vee was barely 17 and Lena was just shy of her 21st birthday, and they had grown close extremely quickly; sharing a bed, sleeping together in the winter for warmth, training in the warmer afternoons. Eventually, they became a pair to be reckoned with and now, three years on, they were some of the best black market dealers in the city, able to move pills and weapons faster than just about anyone else.

Catching up to Robert is easy, but it's the getting to him that's the hard part. When three men start to threaten Veronica, Lena groans internally and stays wary, eyeing the guns they're holding at their sides. If she's not careful, this could get ugly.

“Turn the fuck around and leave now.”

“I'm not going anywhere without Robert,” Veronica retorts.

The man in front brandishes his gun. “Bitch, I will bash your skull unless you turn around and get your dumb ass outta here.”

Veronica gives Lena a long side glance and the older woman sighs. She knows what's coming, even if her partner's face gives nothing away.

“Fuck this,” Veronica says with about as much feeling as if she's talking about the weather. She shoots the man in the chest and pulls Lena to cover, a crazy glint in her eyes.

Lena knows that glint is reflected in her own eyes. As much as she hates herself for it, the adrenaline that rushes through her veins is the closest thing she's felt to happiness in years. Veronica was some semblance of happiness, until they both came to the realization they were better off as friends.

The remaining men's resistance is short-lived and ends with both of them dying at Lena's hands.

After they fight their way to Robert, the greasy-haired man is stupid enough to make a run for it but Veronica catches up to him, circling him like a hungry lioness.

“Hello, Robert,” she quips.

Robert lets out a wry chuckle, his eyes darting to the empty alleyway behind them. “Veronica. Lena.” He half nods to the women like they're meeting for lunch. “No hard feelings, right?”

Veronica clicks her tongue. “None at all,” she says sarcastically, picking up a length of metal pipe from the ground. Lena winces sympathetically when Robert tries to dart past her and she smashes it into his shins, sending him to the ground like a bag of flour.

“Goddammit!” Robert groans, clutching his legs.

The metal pipe rattles against the concrete as Veronica tosses it aside. “We missed you.” She's waiting for an explanation and Robert tries to weasel his way out.

“Look, whatever you heard, it ain't true, okay? I just wanna say—”

“The guns,” the Asian woman interrupts. “You wanna tell us where the guns are?”

“Yeah, sure,” Robert stammers out lamely. “But, it's complicated. Alright?”

“Hm.” Veronica hums and nods to Lena. It's her sign for 'go ahead,' and Lena pushes off from the wall amid Robert's objections. Her muscles are coiled and she's thinking of the lost gun deal as well as the cut on Veronica's cheek when she draws closer to Robert.

“Look, alright, just hear me out on this. I gotta—”

Lena's work boot connects solidly with his nose and he cries out in pain, his forehead hitting the ground.

“Fuck!”

Without a single twinge of emotion, she stretches his arm out against the pavement, twisting his shoulder in his socket in a way no one's shoulder is supposed to turn.

“Quit your squirming,” Veronica snaps. “You were saying?” She crouches down and surveys the blood on his face with a vindictive sneer.

“I sold them,” Robert grunts out, panting.

“Excuse me?”

“I didn't have much of a choice. I owed someone.”

“You owed _us_ ,” Veronica says harshly, leaning in. “I'd say you bet on the wrong horse.”

“I just need more time,” Robert begs. “Just gimme a week.” He's pathetic, trying to pull his arm out from under Lena's hands, but she's unyielding.

She feels nothing for this man, and her cold calculating doesn't bother her in the slightest.

“You know,” Veronica tips her head to the side like she's contemplating his offer, “I might've done that if you hadn't tried to _fucking kill me._ Who has our guns?”

Robert purses his lips, breathing hard. “I can't,” he gets out. “Just gimme a couple of days—”

Lena pulls and twists, and his arm snaps like a twig under the brutally applied force. Robert screams and she throws his arm back at him as he rolls onto his side, groaning in pain.

“Fucking...”

“Who. Has. Our guns.” Veronica gets close enough that she could rip the earring out of Robert's ear with her teeth and he pants, glaring up at her. Her gaze is unforgiving and he realizes she doesn't care how much pain she has to put him through to get her answer.

“It's the Fireflies,” he confesses, the words sounding like they're being ripped out of him. “I owed the Fireflies. But they're basically all dead! We can just go in and get them, come on! Fuck those Fireflies!”

In a smooth, synchronized motion, Lena and Veronica stand up. They exchange a look, and Lena knows what's coming next.

“ _That_ is a stupid idea.” Veronica shoots him twice and he falls back into a growing pool of his own blood.

Lena heaves a deep sigh and stares at the body by their feet. “Well, now what?”

“We go get our merchandise back,” Veronica says plainly.

“How?”

“I don't know. We...explain it to them. Look, let's...go find a Firefly.” She sounds like she's against her own idea, and Lena is about to agree with her when a voice makes them both turn around.

“You won't have to look very far.”

A woman steps out from behind the side of the building. She has short, cropped hair and is holding a gun, and blood stains her shirt underneath a hand she's pressing to her gut.

Lena snorts, recognizing her immediately. “There you go,” she says to Veronica, gesturing to the bleeding woman. “Queen Firefly.”

Veronica eyes the blood on her jacket and raises an eyebrow. “You aren't looking so hot.”

Alex Danvers ignores her comment, eyeing her and Lena suspiciously. “Where's Robert?”

With a small smile, Veronica moves out of the way, gesturing to Robert's corpse like it's a roadside attraction.

The leader of the rebel movement laughs dryly and shakes her head. “I needed him alive.”

“Those guns he sold you? They weren't his to sell. I want them back.”

“You want them back, you have to earn them.”

Veronica's eyes are bright in the heat of the deal. It's one of the things that Lena loves about her, the way her mind works. One second she's killing a man, the next she's cutting deals like a CEO. “How many cards are we talking?"

“I don't give a damn about ration cards,” Alex shakes her head. “I need something smuggled out of the city. You do that, I'll give you your guns back. And then some.” She looks a little desperate but she's standing straight and meeting Veronica's steely gaze.

Lena has been watching this exchange from behind Veronica, always preferring to stay in the shadows, but at that, she steps forward with renewed interest. “How do we know you have them?” she asks, crossing her arms. “Way I hear it, military's been wiping you guys out.”

A police radio sounds near them and they all tense, on high alert.

“I gotta move. What's it gonna be?” Alex looks back and forth between them, waiting for an answer.

Always the one who knows what she wants, Veronica glances at Lena then nods to Alex. “I wanna see those guns.”

* * *

Alex leads them through another warehouse, wincing every time her movements pull on her injury. Veronica tries to keep up conversation and Lena tunes it out, doing routine 360's to check their surroundings.

“The place is up ahead,” Alex nods, walking through a doorway.

Lena switches places with Veronica and follows close behind. “What the hell are we smuggling?”

“I'll show you,” Alex says shortly. They ascend a staircase and Alex unlocks a door, falling to her knees with a gasp as it swings inwards.

“Whoa, come on. Get on up,” Lena encourages, reaching for her shoulders.

“Get the fuck away from her!” A ball of blonde hair and wiry muscle throws itself at Lena's exposed side, and only Veronica, cutting in with a warning “Hey, hey hey!” and a firm hand saves her from getting a knife to the ribs.

“Let her go,” Alex instructs, pulling herself up. Veronica shoves the woman away after a long moment, waiting for Lena's nod more than Alex's.

Lena gets a good look at her would-be attacker. She's taller than Lena by several inches, but her face betrays how young she is—a few years younger than Lena, maybe still a teenager. Her long blonde hair is messy and hanging around her face. She has on a backpack and a faded novelty tee, and the knife in her hand is a 3-inch switchblade that Lena takes care to avoid. Even though her eyes are blue, not green, the fierce protectiveness in them reminds her so much of Lex that she has to look away.

The woman completely ignores Lena, hurrying to Alex's side when she notices the blood. “Shit,” she says under breath, folding the knife away. “What happened?”

“Don't worry, this is fixable,” Alex consoles her, leaning heavily on a table with a huff of breath that betrays how much pain she's actually in. “I got us help. But I can't come with you.”

The blonde woman blinks a few times, like she isn't processing what she's hearing, but her voice is firm even though she looks overwhelmed.

“Then I'm staying.”

“Kara,” Alex reprimands with a wince. “We won't get another shot at this.”

Understanding dawns on Lena and she paces forward, pointing a finger at the blonde woman—Kara's—face. “We're smuggling _her?_ ”

“A group of Fireflies will meet you at the Capitol building.”

“That's not exactly close.” Business-minded Veronica makes her appearance. “We're not smuggling _shit_ until I see those weapons.”

“And I'll take you to them,” Alex concedes. “I can get you double what Robert sold me. But I need to get patched up and _she's_ not crossing into that part of town. I want Lena to watch over her.”

“Whoa, whoa. I don't think that's the best idea—”

“Bullshit! I'm not going with her!”

Lena and Kara's objections clamor together and Alex lets out a tired sigh. She's running on fumes, anyone can see that, but her tone brokers no room for argument.

“Kara.”

Kara glances at Lena then steps closer to Alex. It's clear she sees her as some sort of guardian figure and she's watching Alex's blood with concern. “How do you know them?” she asks with another glance at the two smugglers.

“I was close with her brother, Lex. I trust her.”

For the first time, Veronica looks uneasy, shooting Lena a glance as the older woman's jaw clenches. In the three years she's known her, Lena has only said her brother's name to her once, to give her a vague personal history.

She doesn't count the times in the early days when Lena would wake up screaming for her brother, night after night, and she had to hold the other woman until she broke free from the nightmares, her shirt soaked through with sweat.

“I don't remember you helping us out much after everything blew up. In fact, I don't remember you at all—”

“Lex was a good man. I trust you,” Alex says again, staring Lena in the eye.

“Yeah, _was_.” Her green eyes flash with hostility and her fists are curled at her sides, veins standing out against the tanned skin.

Veronica steps forward, cupping Lena's face in her hands. “Hey. Stay with me.” The brunette gives her a pained look and she brushes Lena's hair behind her ear. “I'll go with Alex to verify the weapons, just watch her until we get back.”

Lena looks at the ground. “Vee...”

“She's just cargo, Lena.”

Kara, meanwhile, is voicing her own concerns. “Alex.”

“No more talking,” Alex instructs. “You'll be fine. Now go with her.” She nods to Lena and stands, grunting with exertion.

Lena covers Veronica's hand with her own, sliding it down her face. “Don't take long,” she whispers, then turns to Kara, her voice hardening. “And you. Stay close.” She leaves the room, not bothering to check if the blonde is following her.

* * *

Kara's questions are starting to annoy Lena. The girl acts like she's never seen a street sign, looking around her with childlike wonder and slowing them down considerably when she sees a dead tree.

“This tunnel. You use it to smuggle things?”

“Yup.”

“Like...illegal things?” She betrays her own innocence, unbothered by Lena's cold answers.

“Sometimes.”

“You ever smuggle a person before?”

“No,” Lena admits. “That's a first. What's the deal with you and Alex, anyway?”

“I don't know,” Kara pants, trying to keep up with Lena's brisk pace. She doesn't seem to have done much _surviving_ , and Lena tries to stamp out the bitterness that comes with that knowledge. It's not Kara's fault that she's been protected by the Fireflies her whole life, never having to fend for herself. “She's my friend, I guess.”

“Your friend, huh?” Lena says skeptically. “You're friends with the leader of the Fireflies. What are you, like, sixteen?”

“She knew my mom,” Kara says defensively, following Lena through a destroyed hallway. “And she's been looking after me. And I'm twenty, not that that has anything to do with—anything.”

 _Twenty. Older than I thought._ “Where are your parents?”

Kara heaves a sigh, kicking at an empty beer bottle. “Where are anyone's parents? They've been gone a long, long time.”

“So you teamed up with a rebel gang, huh?”

Kara scoffs as they walk up an incline. “Look, I'm not supposed to tell you why you're smuggling me if that's what you're getting at.”

“You wanna know the best thing about my job?” Lena's reached the end of her patience. “I don't need to know why. To be honest with you, I could give two shits about what you're up to.” She _has_ been wondering why Alex wants them to smuggle a live person, but a job's a job and Kara is grating on her. She wishes it was her with Alex and Veronica taking care of the blonde—they're closer in age and Veronica's always been more amicable than her with strangers.

“Well, great,” Kara says good-naturedly.

Opening a grimy door that takes some maneuvering, Lena walks in and throws herself on the single couch. “This is it,” she says without bravado. She's tired and annoyed, and there's not much to do but wait until Veronica comes back.

“What are you doing?”

_Jesus, does she ever stop asking questions?_

“Killing time,” Lena says bluntly, closing her eyes.

“Well, what am I supposed to do?”

“I am sure you will figure that out.”

With a deep sigh, Kara swings her arms and inspects the room. She goes past three of the four walls before walking past what she really wants to look at—Lena. The brunette is lying on the couch in silence, but Kara gets the feeling she isn't asleep. That just like her, she's never really asleep.

She takes in the long, dark hair, the elegant bone structure that's buried under scars and dirt and years of being on edge. Even relaxed, her face has a surly look that Kara wishes would go away, not for her sake but for Lena's. Her hands are rough and calloused, and while her body has more curves than Kara's seen on a woman since the rations ran low, she's still toned and lean and just as wiry as the rest of them. A watch on her wrist is covered with cracked glass and Kara stares for a while until she realizes the hands aren't moving.

Walking towards the single window in the room, she tugs on her backpack straps. “Your watch is broken,” she comments.

Lena just snorts.


	2. Chapter 2

“ _Hey, baby girl.” Lex is grinning from ear to ear and she smiles back. It's the smile that means 'I have a surprise' and she claps her hands together._

_“Happy 14_ _th_ _birthday!”_

“ _Fourteen? But...”_

_The puzzle he pulls from behind his back makes her eyes go wide and she forgets what she's saying. She's been eyeing it for weeks—a 1500 piece landscape of a fantasy setting. Ripping the plastic off, she squeals, but the sound is broken off by a loud boom and a gasp from her brother._

“ _Lex?” She looks up and the box falls to the ground, puzzle pieces scattering the carpet. A rapidly spreading patch of something red is staining his shirt, and as their eyes meet, he pitches forward silently._

“ _Lex!”_  
  
 _Watery noises are coming from his throat and she forces his hands away from his gut, her heart clenching at what's clearly a gunshot wound._

“ _Move your hands!” She's begging him to keep his eyes on her, to let her help. When she presses down on the hole in his stomach, his back arches and he groans in agony._

“ _I know, I know it hurts. You're going to be okay. Stay with me, Lex.”_

_He raises a blood-covered hand to her cheek, leaving three red lines painted on the ivory skin._

“ _Baby...girl...”_

_His hand hits the ground with a terribly finality._

“ _Lex?”_

“ _Lex!”_

_The awful rattling in his throat has stopped, and her heart breaks deep in her chest at the implications of the silence._

“ _Please don't do this to me,” she begs, pulling his face to her chest._ _“No, no, please. Oh, God,” she says brokenly, the bullet wound forgotten as she tries to hold onto him._

“ _Please don't do this.”_

“ _Oh, God.”_

Lena's eyes snap open in the dark, her heart racing. She must have dozed off. It's been months since she dreamed about her brother but the pain is just as fresh as the day he died. Recognizing her surroundings, she lets her eyes slip shut and tries to remember what his smile looked like.

“You mumble in your sleep.”

In the corner of her eye is Kara, her legs propped on a chair. She's watching Lena but glances away shyly when the brunette looks over.

 _You idiot,_ Lena berates herself. _Leaving yourself completely at the mercy of Kara and her switchblade._

The thought strikes her that Kara could have killed her, slit her throat and made a run for it, but just as quickly, she dispels the thought. Kara wouldn't do that. Kara has kind eyes, and in a world full of backstabbers and murderers, kindness is a hard trait to find.

Then again, Veronica tells her she has kind eyes, and the things she's done can't be printed in children's books.

Rain is pelting the window and Kara is mesmerized by it, her blue eyes wide and full of childish awe.

“I hate bad dreams,” the blonde says quiety, more to herself than Lena

Swinging her legs off the couch, Lena puts her head in her hands, rubbing at her eyes. “Yeah, me too.” Allowing herself one last memory of her brother, she gets up, trying to shake away the bad dream and walking towards Kara.

“You know, I've never been this close,” the blonde remarks, turning at the sounds of Lena's approach. “To the outside of the city. Look how dark it is.” She leans forward and presses a palm to the glass. “Can't be any worse out there.”

Lena goes over to light a lantern and thinks of all the killing, all the fighting, all the _surviving_ she's had to do just to stay alive _out there._

Kara reads her silence carefully and stands up, her next question shy and halting. “Can it?”

Lena deflects, refusing to let herself dwell on the past. “What on earth do the Fireflies want with you?” she asks gruffly. Just as Kara opens her mouth, Veronica slips in through the door.

“Hey. Sorry it took so long, soldiers fucking everywhere.” She got caught in the rain and her clothes are wet but not soaked through, and Lena can see the darkened fabric clinging to her skin in places. Lena waits for her to walk over, wanting the comfort from her partner's presence. Veronica's fingers skate across her shoulders then disappear—it's a familiar gesture, one they use to reassure each other that they're still together.

“How's Alex?” Kara asks, worried. She looks like she's waiting for bad news, with her furrowed brow and nervous fidgeting.

“She'll make it.” Veronica turns to Lena, noticing the unsettled look in the brunette's eyes, but she doesn't say anything. It's a conversation for another time. “I saw the merchandise. It's a lot. Wanna do this?”

Lena nods, grateful for the distraction of a job, even as her eyes skate over Kara's frame and she thinks she sees her brother in the way she plants her feet. “Yeah. Don't you think it's a bit strange that they're having us do their smuggling?” she comments as the three of them leave the room.

“Alex wanted to do it herself,” Veronica says shortly. “We weren't their first choice. Or the second for that matter. She's lost a lot of men. Beggars can't be choosers.”

Kara huffs out a little breath at that, and Lena finds herself feeling sympathy towards the younger woman. If she's been raised by the Fireflies, she must have known at least some of the men who've been gunned down during this apocalyptic time. She doesn't let her words betray her, though, gruff as always and staying close to Veronica.

“Let's just hope there's someone alive to pay us.”

“Alex said some Fireflies traveled all the way from another city to receive her. Girl must be important,” Veronica says, sizing the blonde up. “You some big-wig's daughter or something?”

“Something like that,” Kara says vaguely, stepping onto the lift. It descends with its usual, stomach-wrenching speed and Lena tries to enjoy the sensation. “How long is this all gonna take?”

“If everything goes as planned?” Veronica shrugs, giving Lena a smile. “A few hours. Kara, once we get out there, I need you to follow our lead and stay close.”

“Of course,” Kara agrees, a little scared at the prospect of sneaking around.

Veronica looks back at Lena. She can sense that Lena's off her game, and a quick touch of her hand brings the brunette back down to earth. Closing her eyes for a moment, Lena opens them to Veronica's brown ones and nods. She's fine.

When they emerge into the rain, Lena grumbles. It's warm and they have no fear of catching a cold, but running through the city in soaking wet clothes and worse, wet _socks,_ is not something she wants to be doing. She's about to make a snarky comment to Veronica, one that would make the Asian woman crack a smile, when she catches sight of Kara. The blonde is standing still and has pulled a sleeve up to watch the rain fall onto her skin with a wonder that Lena doesn't understand.

“Holy shit,” Kara breathes. “I'm actually outside.” She lets them herd her along through the maze of alleys and buildings, only needing Lena's help a few times to jump over tree trunks.

Just as Lena is walking through an opening, something hard and blunt smashes into the side of her head with bruising force. Her vision blacks out temporarily and she falls to her hands and knees with a muffled grunt, trying to figure out where the attacker is. Behind her, Veronica's hand jumps to her gun.

“Don't do anything stupid!” A soldier trains her flashlight on Veronica and Kara, and they both slowly raise their hands. Lena is pulling herself up from the muddy ground, squinting through the pain as anger starts to burn through her. Another soldier comes up from behind Veronica, pistol raised, and Lena glares at them through the rain and the haze.

This is just what they need. Why can't anything be _easy,_ for fuck's sake?

“Turn around and get on your knees,” the female soldier instructs. They're both wearing masks but the other soldier's voice is unmistakably male.

“Put your hands on your head,” he says gruffly, brandishing the gun at Veronica. Kara looks frightened, Veronica is on edge. There's no easy way out of this and god knows how many other soldiers are waiting in the wings, but they can't let themselves be captured.

Not now. Not because of something as stupid as smuggling some barely-grown woman out of the city.

The other soldier beeps a radio and keeps her gun on Lena. She's decided that Lena is the biggest threat out of all of them and the muzzle of the machine gun pokes Lena's back, the metal prodding her spine and making her grit her teeth.

“This is Ramirez at Sector Twelve. Requesting pickup for three stragglers.”

The man has his pistol in Veronica's face and Lena is equal parts worried and furious at how close he's getting, knowing that one wrong move could end with her partner's head being blown off.

“Look the other way,” Veronica says in a seductive tone, cool even with a gun inches from her eyes. “We can make this worth your while.”

“Shut up.” The man is all work and no play and begins scanning them for the virus, and Lena exhales with relief when the gun leaves Veronica's face.

As the scans come up clean, he approaches Kara, the device beeping in his hand. The blonde is fidgeting and Lena wants to hiss at her to _stop moving or you'll get us all killed,_ but before she has the chance, Kara is twisting around and pulling out her knife.

“Sorry!” Kara grunts, stabbing the man in the leg. He yells in pain and they struggle for a moment before he overpowers her, pistol-whipping the side of her face. She falls back with a cry and Lena sees her opening.

His gun goes off as she barrels into the side of his body, tackling him to the ground. His female partner is trying to find a clean shot and in the time it takes her to cock her gun, Veronica fires two bullets into her skull.

Lena barely has time to duck out of the way as the next bullet kills the man she's wrestling with, but she's not afraid of Veronica hitting her. The Asian woman's aim is better than her own.

Kara scrambles into a sitting position, pulling her knees to her chest and crawling backward until she hits an empty cargo box. “Oh, _fuck_ ,” she breathes, staring at the lifeless bodies. “I thought we were just gonna hold them up or something.”

Lena glances over her with annoyance. She stabbed a soldier _after_ they made contact with reinforcements, what did she think was going to happen? The blonde woman's naivete is _really_ rubbing Lena the wrong way, but she doesn't have time to focus on that because Veronica is picking up the sensor and cursing under her breath.

“Shit. Look,” she says shortly, tossing Lena the scanner.

The red blinking light of a positive result burns itself into Lena's retinas.

“Jesus Christ.” Lena ignores Kara, meeting Veronica's wide-eyed stare. “Alex set us up?” She glares over at Kara, green eyes glinting in the dark. “Why the hell are we smuggling an infected girl?”

“I'm not infected,” Kara pants, her eyes as wide as saucers and still staring at the bodies of the guards.

“No?” Lena tosses the scanner onto the ground next to her. “So is this lying?” Her jaw flexes, rage sparking in her eyes as Kara scrabbles for the right words.

“I can explain,” Kara says desperately.

“You better explain fast.” Veronica towers over the girl, her gun in her hand.

Kara yanks her sleeve up. Not the one she let the rain fall onto an hour before, but the sleeve of her right arm. “Look at this!”

“I don't care how you got infected.” Lena waves an angry hand, turning away from the blonde girl. Her hair, saturated with rain, sticks to her face and her deft fingers fasten it into a braid that she ties off with a rubber band, staring into the night.

“It's three weeks old,” Kara insists.

Veronica is already shaking her head. “No. Everyone turns within two days. Stop bullshitting.”

“It's three weeks,” Kara repeats. “I swear.” Her blue eyes are clear and wide, and after a long moment of holding her gaze, Veronica slowly kneels down and inspects her arm.

Outlined in the skin of Kara's forearm are the clear signs of a bite ringed with the _Cordyceps_ infection. But the bite is healed, the skin is shiny, and the symptoms stop an inch away from the teeth marks. Veronica tries to process what she's seeing, glancing back at Lena.

Lena shakes her head skeptically, her eyebrows knitting. “I'm not buying it.” She watches the road, then blanches at the sight of headlights. A patrol car makes itself known and Lena mutters under her breath, energy spiking through her veins.

“Oh, shit. Vee, run. Run!” She touches Veronica's arm and darts away, trusting her feet to keep her upright as she navigates the dark terrain.

Veronica is hauling Kara to her feet, shouting at her to “Move!” and they head towards a ravine that Lena knows is waiting for them, feet pounding the wet earth.

They jump down, landing heavily on their feet and scurrying through the night like rats. More headlights flood the ground a half mile away and they skirt the sides of the trench as Veronica makes sure they don't get separated.

“When I give you the signal, we run,” Veronica says quietly. Kara nods, shocked at the turn of events.

“Signal. Run. Got it.”

For someone that's never been outside, Kara is keeping up pretty well but that doesn't stop Lena from regarding her as dead weight. Slightly less than dead weight, because she's the trade that will get them their guns back—but still.

They stay in the shadows for almost an hour, dodging the soldiers' flashlights and whispering through the rain. Lena's socks are absolutely drenched and even through the terror of being caught, she's disgusted with the sensation of squelching in her boots. Normally, her boots do a pretty good job of keeping her feet dry, but they've splashed through puddles and been walking in the rain for hours.

“Fuck it,” a soldier yells out. “Let the clickers get them.”

Still not letting her guard down, Lena leads them through a pipe into a sewer. It's long been cleaned out by natural rainwater and they wade through it. Her heart pounds in her chest until she hears a soldier yell out that they're being called back to the wall.

Pushing open the grate, they emerge outside of the city walls and Lena heaves a sigh of something close to relief. “Alright, they're gone.”

Kara collapses onto a rock nearby as Lena catches her breath. Sensing that the young woman needs some guidance, Veronica goes over and takes a knee, holding her hands out and trying to calm Kara down.

“Look. What was the plan?” she asks in a soothing voice. “Let's say that we deliver you to the Fireflies. What then?”

Kara breathes deep, raising her head. “Alex...she said that they have their own little quarantine zone with doctors there, still trying to find a cure.”

“Yeah, we've heard that before, huh Vee?” Lena scoffs, glancing at her partner.

“And that...” Kara shakes her head like she knows they won't believe her. “Whatever happened to me is the key to finding a vaccine.”

Lena raises her eyes to the heavens. _Only a fool would still believe in the possibility of a cure._ “Jesus,” she mutters, closing her eyes against the rain.

“It's what she said,” Kara insists defiantly, watching her standoffish pose.

The brunette turns back to the sitting woman, glaring. “Oh, I'm sure she did,” she says snarkily.

“Hey, fuck you. I didn't ask for this!” Kara stands up angrily and her outburst surprises Lena. There's a lot of anger in the small, skinny woman and her eyes have turned an icy blue.

“Me neither,” Lena shuts her down, walking past her to Veronica. “Vee, what the _hell_ are we doing here?”

“What if it's true?”

Lena's look of disbelief is plain on her face as she glances between Veronica and Kara. “I can't believe—” She breaks off into a scoff, raising her hands and turning away from Veronica.

“What if, Lee?”

"Don't call me that,” Lena says harshly.

“We've come this far,” Veronica points out, and much to Lena's annoyance, she has a point. “Let's just finish it.”

“Do I need to remind you what is out there?” Lena says gruffly, gesturing to the land beyond the highway. She's seen too many men die at the hands of clickers and runners, not to mention the soldiers that are supposed to be protecting them.

Veronica gives her a long look, then turns back to Kara. Her expression is unreadable but she touches Lena's cheek lightly, her eyes dark and hooded. “I get it,” she says, her voice dropping, conversations between the two of them flashing across her eyes. “But you don't have to take her in. You just have to transport her.”

Running a frustrated hand through damp hair, Lena snorts. “It's a little different than smuggling pills, Veronica.”

Somehow, in the one short evening she's known Kara, Lena's already starting to see herself as responsible for the blonde woman.

 _You can't afford to form attachments,_ she reminds herself, the muscles in her jaw working as she stares defiantly into brown eyes. Eyes that she knows are capable of convincing her, where no one else is, to do ridiculously insane things that no one else would even attempt.

“Just cargo, right?” Veronica repeats, and Lena groans.

“Fine.”

* * *

After the few hours of panic, Kara is back to her stupid comments. Veronica notices the way the younger woman is watching Lena, her blue eyes roaming up and down the brunette's body and widening more and more every time they pass Lena's hips, and she laughs to herself.

_Immune to the virus, but not the Lena effect._

“Holy moley. I guess this is what these buildings look like up close.”

“What kind of plant is this? I've read all about them but never seen one.”

“Do you think—”

An echoing screech cuts off her next question, and Lena is immediately nervous. “Did you hear that?”

“Yeah,” Veronica calls back. “Sounded far away though.”

They continue through abandoned building after abandoned building, making their way slowly but surely to the Capitol. Kara managed the killing of the two soldiers pretty well, but when they stumble across the corpse of a man that's been ripped apart by clickers, she bends over and throws up in the doorway.

“You're fine,” Lena mutters, patting the blonde's shoulder awkwardly she heaves.

Veronica rolls her eyes and knocks Lena's hand away, bending down to wipe the hair out of Kara's eyes. “I know it's a lot. But we're almost there, okay?” Her voice is gentler than Lena's and her expression is open and caring. Lena hasn't shown that sort of emotion to anyone except Veronica, and it's only in brief spurts when she thought her partner was dying or when Veronica had woken up screaming from a nightmare Lena didn't want to ask about.

Or when it's just the two of them.

They come across another body, this one much more ravaged by the infection.

“Jeez. What's wrong with its face?” Kara mumbles, holding Veronica's hand as Lena yanks the corpse away from the door they're trying to get through.

“That's what years of infection will do to you,” Veronica says in a hushed voice. The body thuds to the side and Lena throws her shoulder against the door, trying to force it open through the hardened fungus the dead body has grown.

“So what, are they blind?”

“Sort of,” Veronica explains. “They see using sound.”

“Like bats? I remember reading about them in my books.”

Lena breaks through the door with another hit as Veronica continues the science lesson. “Like bats. If you hear one clicking, you have to hide and don't make any noise. That's how they spot you, they follow any sound you make.”

When they force through the next door, a clicking sound reaches Lena, and Veronica yells her name just as the creature hits her. It takes her down and she lands heavily on her back, blocking what's supposed to be its mouth with a punch to the neck.

Veronica kicks it off of her and shoots it in the head.

“Thanks,” Lena pants. They're both breathing heavily. Death is never far from their doorstep, but they've managed to keep each other alive this long. Hopefully, the streak will continue.

“You alright?” Kara pipes up, standing in the doorway.

“It's nothing.” Lena dismisses her, continuing her way through the building. She picks up a shiv and some more ammo on the way, navigating by the light of her flashlight.

Kara follows, keeping up a running commentary. “Shit, that was intense! Do you think there are more?”

The screeching sounds of another clicker come from outside in answer and Lena reaches for her gun.

“Let's get the hell out of here.” She gives Veronica a boost up, then Kara, and Lena is last up, Veronica's capable arms pulling her onto the platform.

Just as they're gathering their bearings, a clicker comes through a nearby doorway and they have to sprint and crouch behind a desk to stay hidden. Only Veronica's quick thinking and throwing a bottle keeps them out of trouble, and Lena sneaks up behind it, putting it in a chokehold. Her arms, corded with muscle, strangle it mercilessly as the other two watch from a few meters away.

“You know, after we get back, maybe we should take it easy for a little while,” Veronica remarks, shining her flashlight around the floor above them.

“You want to take it easy?” Lena says skeptically.

“You're the one always going on about laying low.” Veronica winks and Lena narrows her eyes, her hand tightening around her gun.

“And _you_ always brushed me off.”

“Well, I won't this time,” Veronica says softly.

“I'll believe it when I see it,” Lena retorts, touching Veronica's arm.

Kara watches their exchange, notices the difference between Lena talking to her and talking to Veronica. There's something between the two women that she can't figure out, but Lena seems much more willing to speak her mind when she's ignoring Kara's existence.

Kara tries not to take it personally. Her own mission is to get to the scientists and help them find a cure for this hellish disease she knows so little about, so she resists the urge to ask Lena about her life, knowing that intruding on the brunette's personal story won't get her in her good graces.

And she finds herself very badly wanting to get in her good graces.

They come across a few more bodies and Kara keeps her lunch down—or what's left of it. It's surprising, how quickly she accepts that dead bodies are going to be a part of this journey, and once she gets over that her stomach stops trying to twist itself into a pretzel.

“You guys are pretty good at this stuff,” Kara says good-naturedly as they reach the streets, making it out of the abandoned building.

“It's called luck,” Lena says bluntly, “And it's going to run out.”

But Lena's luck doesn't seem to ever run out. She shoots and shanks her way out of impossible situations, and her aim with Molotov cocktails is unparalleled. She's just started yanking the chain of a garage door, Kara's eyes glued to her shoulders and the muscles straining under her faded shirt when Veronica puts a hand on her shoulder.

“Shh. Wait.”

Lena listens intently, her eyebrows knitting. “I don't hear anything.” But she trusts Vee's instincts, and the way her brown eyes are darting around puts her on edge.

“They're coming!” Kara whispers, hearing something they don't. Veronica pats her shoulder and holds her gun out.

“Double time.”

They barely make it through the door and it slams shut just in time for the clickers to throw their bodies against it, crashing against the corrugated metal.

“You got something on your shoe,” Kara says in a small voice full of revulsion. Lena looks down and shakes off the dismembered hand gripping the toe of her work boot.

“Gross.”

Veronica leads the way, looking back at them to make sure they're still there. “So why does Alex think you're immune? And where were you, if you got bitten in the zone?”

“I snuck out a lot,” Kara says matter of factly. “I was in this military boarding school.”

“ _You?_ Sneak out? You look like a rule follower to me,” Lena says dubiously.

“Yeah, well. We—I'd explore the city. That's all there was, buildings and cement. I was in the mall when I ran into the infected.”

Veronica raises an eyebrow. “That place is completely off-limits. How the hell did you get in there?” She seems impressed, and Lena is too, though she'll never admit it out loud.

“I...had my ways. I was a lot younger, a lot smaller too. Could fit in spaces most people can't. Anyways, one of those—what you guys call runners, he bit me. And that was that.”

She falls silent, thinking about the day she was bitten.

 _She must have been scared,_ Lena thinks. _All alone and under the impression she was going to die a horrible death._

“Were you with Alex? When you were bitten?” Veronica keeps the conversation going, walking through the dark hallways.

“No. I went to her for help afterwards.”

Veronica laughs, a sound that brightens up the dark space. “Knowing her, I'm surprised she didn't shoot you.”

“She almost did,” Kara chuckles dryly. “I hope she's alright,” she adds in a small voice, her hands fidgeting with her hair. The blonde strands are drying as the rain lets up, light in some places, dark as honey in others.

It reminds Lena of her brother. She clenches her jaw and shakes the thought away.

“I told you,” Veronica assures her. “She's gonna be fine.”

When they reach a blocked off passageway, Lena throws her weight under the wooden beam and lifts it just enough for the other two to crawl under. “Hurry, watch your head,” she instructs, her muscles straining. “Shit. Son of a—”

The ceiling caves in, large stones and wooden beams crashing down to completely block the exit.

“Lena?” Veronica calls out, concern in her voice. “Lena!”

Coughing out dust, Lena sits up, waving the air in front of her. She can just make out Veronica's worried face in a small slit and she gives her a thumbs up. “I'm alive. I'll make my way around to you.”

A grotesque chorus of clicks and screeches come out of the darkness and Veronica is yelling, her voice higher than usual.

“They're here!”

Lena's eyes turn a horrified shade of green, her stomach tightening. “Vee?!”

“Run. Run!” Veronica disappears from the opening, pushing Kara in front of her.

“Shit,” Lena mutters, climbing to her feet. She knows Veronica can handle herself, but worry forces her to go faster than she normally would, taking out clickers left and right.

“Veronica!” Her harsh whisper cuts through the darkness but there's no response. Breaking the neck of another clicker, she hears the sounds of a struggle and hurries towards it, adrenaline pumping through her veins.

“Vee?” She turns the corner just in time to see Veronica bash the head in of a clicker, her foot planted firmly on its chest.

“I'm fine,” her partner says breathlessly, her chest heaving with exertion. Lena's eyes roam her body, checking for injuries, but she's right. She seems unhurt.

“Guys, get in here!” From somewhere down the hall, Kara's voice echoes and they share a panicked look.

Veronica is already running for the door and they run right into a riot, Kara barely managing to hold off an army of clickers. Somehow they make it out, and as they regroup by a window, Lena looks over at her partner.

“How you holding up?” Her voice softens in concern and Veronica checks her arms.

“Just a bit winded,” the Asian woman smiles. “Kara?”

“I'm good,” the blonde answers, but she's clearly shaken up. They make their way to the roof and Lena slides a wooden plank across to the next building.

“Now, watch your step as you're going up,” she warns, “Cause it's going to be a little—”

“Pssh.” Kara rolls her eyes and waves a hand in Lena's face, hopping onto the plank and making her way across like she isn't fifty feet above the ground. Lena shoots Veronica an incredulous look, as if to say _'the nerve on this kid',_ and Veronica just grins.

They look out at the skyline and Lena smiles at Kara for the first time. The blonde woman saved her life back there in the midst of that firefight with a well-placed stab, and nothing bonds like a life-or-death scenario.

“Well, is that everything you hoped for?”

Kara is secretly elated at Lena's grin and smiles back. Dimples on either side of her mouth form as she beams in the sunlight, moving something deep in Lena's chest. “Jury's still out. But, man...you can't deny that view.” Her blonde hair is blowing in her face and Lena loops it behind her ear with a gentle hand. Kara lets out a small gasp at the contact as the back of Lena's hand brushes her cheek.

“Let's go.” Veronica interrupts the moment, pushing Kara forwards. The other woman goes easily, climbing down the ladder.

As Lena follows, Veronica blocks her way, meeting her gaze. “We're almost done,” the Asian woman says in a reprimanding tone. “Stay focused.”

“Is that jealousy I sense?” Lena teases, watching Kara reach the bottom of the ladder. Her nimble legs have scaled the ladder in record time and she waves back up at them, a goofy grin on her face.

“Don't forget the job,” is all Veronica will say, putting a foot on the first rung and staring at Lena defiantly.

Lena arches an eyebrow, the sight of Veronica framed against the skyline a peaceful one even in the middle of a crisis. Finally allowing herself a small smile, she leans forward and kisses the other woman's forehead, her lips lingers out of Kara's sight.

“Yes, ma'am.”

* * *

“It's right around this corner. Come on.”

Lena's stopped her out-of-character smiling, but she glances over at Kara at Veronica's command. “Keep moving, kid,” she says with what she hopes is a surly attitude. “There we go. Home stretch, Vee,” she calls out to her partner, the Capitol building looming up in front of them.

They're nearing a section of swamp that comes halfway up the abandoned cars when Kara clears her throat nervously.

“Um...just so it's out there, I can't swim.”

Veronica forges ahead without pausing, somehow knowing where to go. “I think it's shallow over here. Follow me.”

Only Lena's aversion to getting her socks wet _again_ makes her hesitate, but she wades through the waist-deep, boggy water, half-listening to Kara's chattering away.

_How is she still so nice after twenty years of **this** life?_

Taking the lead, Lena opens the door to the Capitol building. As the light streams in, Veronica breathes a devastated “No.”

Her voice raises a second later when she rushes forward, dropping to her knees at the body of a Firefly.

“No!”

Kara watches her fumble through the corpse's pockets, then glances back at Lena, anxiety twisting her features. “What happens now?”

Lena ignores her, walking over to Veronica. “What are you doing, Vee?” She doesn't understand the urgency the Asian woman is giving off, a mix of panic and terror.

“Oh, god,” Veronica mutters, rifling through the man's jacket. “Maybe they had a map, or something to tell us where they were going.” She looks up at Lena and her brown eyes are shrouded in desperation.

“How far are we gonna take this?” Lena is tired and hungry, and the idea of a few days of lying low makes her want to turn back home and abandon the mission, but they're _so_ _close_.

“As far as it needs to go!” Veronica insists, her crazed eyes jumping to Kara's worried face. “Where was this lab of theirs?”

Kara looks startled, like she didn't expect to be addressed. “Uh, she never said. She only mentioned that it was someplace out west.”

Trying to gain control of the situation, Lena stands over Veronica. “What are we doing here?” Her voice is low and even, but firm. “This is not us.”

Veronica meets her defiantly, giving up on her search. “What do you know about us? About me?” She says it almost angrily, and Lena finds herself taking a step back. She doesn't understand where this frantic energy is coming from, and it's so in contrast to Veronica's usual demeanor that she's left scrabbling for an explanation.

“I know that you are _smarter_ _than_ _this_ ,” Lena gets out, thinking of all the days she spent with Vee and the nights that followed. _Why is she acting like this?_

“Really?” Veronica says in a mocking tone. “Guess what, we're shitty people, Lena! It's been that way for a long time!” She brandishes an angry hand, her voice jumping up an octave.

“No.” Lena shakes her head, pointing a finger at Veronica's chest. “We are _survivors.”_

“This is our chance—”

“It is _over_ , Veronica!”

Lena's outburst surprises even her and she's acutely aware of the audience they have in Kara. It has the guise of a lover's spat but something deeper and bigger is under the surface of this argument, and Lena isn't sure she wants to know what it is.

“Look, we tried. Let's just go home.” She knows she sounds like she's pleading, probably because she is. There's no shame in giving up and she's just convincing herself of that when Veronica responds in a flat voice.

“I'm not...I'm not going anywhere.”

Lena rolls her eyes. Of course _right now_ is when Veronica decides to become the saint, to save some poor kid and drag her along the way.

“This is my last stop.”

“What?” Lena is getting annoyed at her partner's stubborn attitude.

Veronica looks away, shame tinging her voice. “Our luck had to run out sooner or later.”

Lena's frustration evaporates at the ambiguous statement and she reaches for Veronica's arm, concern wrinkling her forehead. “What are you going on about—”

“Don't!” Veronica wrenches her arm away from Lena's hand. “Don't touch me,” she whispers, averting her eyes.

Kara's breath catches. Veronica is standing a few feet away from Lena, flinching back whenever the brunette tries to get closer, and the revulsion and resignation on her face is as plain as day for anyone to see, only Lena doesn't want to see it.

“Holy shit,” the blonde breathes, taking a step closer to the hunched-over woman. “She's infected.”

The words hang heavy in the air and their effect is immediate. Lena regards her partner of 3 years with a mixture of shock and despair, and stumbles back a step. Her brain grinds to a halt.

“Lena.” Veronica's voice is soft and pleading, her expression vulnerable.

“Let me see it.”

The Asian woman sounds sad as she looks back at Lena, sighing. “I didn't mean for this—”

“ _Show it to me_ ,” Lena says harshly. Maybe it's not that big, maybe they can cut it out...

Any thought that _this can't be happening_ disappears when Veronica yanks back the collar of her shirt and Lena feels like she's just got the wind knocked out of her.

“Oh, _Christ_.” It's like a kick to the chest, and she stops breathing.

Veronica shrugs angrily, letting the cloth fall back over her ravaged flesh. “Oops, right?”

The silence builds and then Veronica strides over to Kara, her movements purposeful and rushed. “Give me your arm,” she demands, grabbing it and ripping the sleeve up when Kara doesn't respond. “This was three weeks. I was bitten an hour ago and it's already worse! This is _fucking real,_ Lena.”

Kara pulls her arm away but Veronica has already forgotten her, standing face to face with Lena.

“You have got to get this girl to James. He used to run with this crew, he'll know where to go!”

Lena shakes her head, the ground swaying under her feet as her world crumbles. “No,” she says in disbelief. “No, that was your crusade. I am _not_ doing that!” She feels like she's about to pass out, the edges of her vision blurring. Veronica's face is the only thing in focus and she clings to it like a drowning man on a life raft.

“Yes, you are!” Veronica yells, getting in her face. “Look.” Her hand comes up and she rests a finger on Lena's cheek, forcing her to look her in the eye. “There's enough here that you have to feel _some_ sort of obligation to me,” she whispers, her brown eyes glassy. She's dying, they both know it.

“Vee...”

“So take her to James. For me.”

Lena doesn't respond, she can't, and her hesitation costs her several seconds of Veronica's remaining time. A truck rumbles outside and soldiers pile out, yelling instructions through their masks.

Veronica pulls the gun out of her waistband and cocks it. “They're here,” she says coolly. All work, no play. That's Veronica.  
  
“Wait, dammit.” Lena is desperately trying to come up with a plan but faced with this, with Veronica being _infected,_ her brilliant mind is failing her.

Because there's no contingency plan for this. There's no Hail Mary, no way to cut out Veronica's entire _shoulder_. Her arm Lena would have amputated the second it happened but they both know it's far too late.

“I can buy you some time but you have to run,” Veronica says bluntly. Her brown eyes are wide, willing Lena to understand what she's saying.

Kara answers for the brunette, who's still too shocked to speak.

“You want us to just leave you here?” Her dismay is evident even though she barely knows Vee, and because of that, Lena decides she'll throw her lot in with the girl.

“Yes.”

Even so, Lena can't let her go that easily. “There is no way that—”

“I will not turn into one of those things!” her partner interrupts her, breathing hard. Lena can see the tension in the set of Veronica's shoulders, how she's trying to tell herself she's come to terms with dying, but just like Lena, she can't.

They're inches apart and Veronica's eyes are begging her to understand. “Come on. Make this easy for me.”

 _NO!_ Lena's brain screams. For her, there is no world where Veronica doesn't exist. “I can fight—”

“No! Just go!” Veronica shoves her away and they stare at each other, years of memories passing between them in an instant. “Just fucking go,” Veronica whispers, her chest heaving up at down as death comes knocking at the door.

Lena swallows past the lump in her throat, feeling her heartbreak yet again in what seems like too short a time. She's endured, she's survived, but this?

This entire thing screams of Lex, and sacrifice, and loss, and the only reason she isn't volunteering to die alongside Veronica is the blonde girl watching her with wide, fearful eyes.

“Kara.” Her voice is rough, choked with an emotion that she can't even begin to process.

“I'm sorry,” Kara says, breathing fast. “I didn't—I didn't mean for this—”

“Get a move on.” The words rub her throat raw and Kara has the sense to run, leaving them a few precious moments alone before the soldiers break through the doors.

Lena backs away, Veronica's brown eyes burning into hers. She doesn't know what to do with herself and her body moves automatically, feet carrying her away from the only semblance of happiness she's known since arriving in Boston.

At the last possible second, she turns, breaking eye contact. She chokes back a sob as she does, knowing it won't do Veronica any good to hear her pain, and then she's running after Kara. The image of Veronica, standing tall, fierce even with death staring her in the face, gun at her side—it burns itself into Lena's brain.

Veronica takes a deep breath, letting her features smooth as she turns to face the door.

 _This is the easy way out,_ she thinks to herself. _You won't become a monster and you can save Lena. You can help them find a cure._

_You should have told her that you loved her. One last time._

The doors burst open and, just like always, she's ready.

* * *

Lena quickly catches up to Kara and the younger girl is, predictably, talking her way through her feelings.

“What the fuck! I can't believe we did that!”

“Stop.” Lena doesn't have the capacity to save their lives and break down at the same time.

“We just left her to die!”

“Stop!” Lena repeats angrily, running up the stairs. “You stay close to me,” she instructs gruffly, all traces of that smiling woman on the roof gone for god knows how long. “We have to move.”

Gunfire and yelling echo around the marble pillars as they sprint past portraits of long-dead politicians and hallways leading to empty offices.

“Oh, man,” Kara breathes, sticking as close to Lena as possible. She's frightened, Lena can tell, but there's no time to worry about how she's _feeling,_ not if they want to survive.

“Just keep pushing forward.” Her voice is empty.

They come upon the rotunda again and look down as a soldier talks into his radio.

“Target neutralized. She took out four of my men. Copy that. You take out the door. You, with me.”

Crouching down, Lena can't stop herself from looking over the edge.

Soldiers swarm the bottom floor like ants. The dead Firefly is off to the side, men in uniform slumped over by pillars they tried to duck behind when Veronica opened fire.

 _Good girl,_ Lena thinks, a bitter taste coating the back of her throat.

She's close enough that she can see Veronica's body, the angle of her slender legs—legs that Lena has run her hands down, legs that earned her a whistle or two whenever she wore shorts. Her shoulder-length hair has come out of its ponytail and is fanned out underneath her body, saturated with blood.

Mercifully, she's far away enough that she can't make out the details, can't see how her almond eyes are glazed over and death has already taken up residence in the dusty brown orbs. How Veronica's jaw is slack and there's blood spotting her lips from her last shaky breaths, dying before the liquid had time to fill her lungs.

Veronica is lying on her side, one hand reaching for her spare gun. Her backpack is still on and the spreading pool of blood across the marble floor could be someone else's. Veronica could be asleep, could be about to jump up and shout “Surprise!”, that this is all a horrible, excruciating dream that Lena will wake up from.

But Lena knows better.

Her vision tunnels and she's not sure, but she must black out for a moment because when the room comes back into focus the soldiers are nowhere to be seen.

“Oh my god,” Kara breathes from behind her, remorse throbbing in every word. “Veronica...”

They make their way to the other side of the building and Kara whispers what Lena already knows.

“They'll be here soon.”

She ignores the other girl, pushing forwards. Surviving. Like a shark, if she stops moving, she'll die.

“What're we doing?” Kara's harsh whisper breaks the silence again. “Lena, how are we gonna get out of here?” She's starting to panic and Lena doesn't have time for it. She doesn't entertain it, just directs Kara through doors with monosyllabic commands and tense nods.

Right as they get to the subway, the soldiers catch up and they have to sprint away from the gunfire, hopping the turnstiles. The soldiers are already in the terminal and Lena slips her gas mask on as spores thicken the air, hiding behind a bench with Kara at her side.

The blonde isn't wearing a mask, and seems completely unaffected by the fungus in the air.

“How the hell are you breathing in this stuff?” Lena whispers harshly.

“I wasn't lying to you,” Kara answers.

The soldiers' flashlights cut through the fog as they search the terminal, and as one strays into Lena's purview, she pounces.

She's out for blood, she wants to rip his throat out with her teeth, but she can't. So she stifles his cries and strangles him with minimal noise, letting his body drop to the ground.

Kara doesn't miss the empty look in those green eyes as Lena takes another life and concern surges through her for the older woman.

It takes minutes but feels like hours, for Lena to take care of the other three soldiers. Her body slips between the shadows, delivering death like a grim reaper, and the worry Kara feels is sharpened by fear when Lena kills the last man, letting herself go just a hint.

The _snap_ of his neck bounces off the walls and Lena shoves his corpse away with no expression at all.

The tunnel is filled with water and Lena ends up having to push Kara along on a wooden pallet, grunting with exertion. A couple of times Kara warns her about obstacles and even though she's preoccupied, withdrawing deep into herself, Lena finds herself reassuring Kara.

And when she almost rolls her ankle heaving herself up from the water, the shock of Kara's hand grabbing her wrist instead of Veronica's, soft fingers twisting in her skin instead of hard calluses that are as familiar as her own, hits her like a bucket of ice water and the strangeness of it makes her muscles tense.

But Kara is there, her other arm reaching out, the scar visible past the edge of her sleeve, blue eyes open and trusting and making Lena want to cry.

Instead of crying, she reaches up her other arm, her silence speaking volumes and softening Kara's face into a sad sort of smile as she whispers in Lena's ear.

“I got you.”


	3. Chapter 3

The sunlight feels good on her wet skin and drenched clothes when they step out of the subway tunnel, but Lena doesn't feel it.

Lena doesn't feel anything.

It took her years to feel even a semblance of happiness after Lex's death and now she's teetering on the brink of a chasm, a thin string the color of Kara's hair the only thing holding her back from falling into the void.

Kara follows at a respectful distance, gearing herself up for the conversation she knows they have to have. The atmosphere is solemn and tense, even in the sunlight, and she swallows a few times before getting up the nerve to say something.

“Hey, look, um...” She puts her hands on her hips, staring at the ground. “About Veronica...”

Lena is catching her breath on a rock and Kara takes it as a sign to go ahead.

“I don't even know what to—”

“Here's how this thing's going to go,” Lena interrupts. She acts like she's talking to a child, emphasizing her words and punctuating them with gestures that are angry and give off an air of apathy.

Kara can see right through the act. Lena is hurting, badly, and the only way she knows how to survive is to bury her pain and keep on going. She doesn't know what to do, so she bites her lip and lets Lena continue.

“You don't bring up Veronica. _Ever._ Matter of fact, we can just keep our histories to ourselves. Secondly, don't tell anybody about your...condition. They'll either think you're crazy or they'll try to kill you. And lastly, you do what I say, when I say it. We clear?”

She'll get the girl to James. That's all she owes Kara, but it's everything she owes Veronica.

Kara kicks at a stray rock, wishing she could help Lena. But the older woman is an enigma and she seems too far away for Kara to reach, so she just nods. “Sure.”

“Repeat it,” Lena insists angrily.

“What you say goes,” Kara simplifies.

With a heavy sigh, Lena stands up. “Good.”

Kara can practically see the ghosts swirling around the brunette and she wonders if she'll ever be able to dispel them. Her heart aches and she tries to smother the pity in her eyes—she knows enough of Lena to know the woman will only respond with anger. She's not even sure if Lena is capable of anything else at the moment.

“There's a town a few miles north and a guy that owes me some favors. Maybe he can get us a car.” Lena's all business, starting on the much-longer second leg of a journey she never wanted to take, but she tries to keep the brusque tone out of her voice. It's not Kara's fault. None of this is Kara's fault.

It's still hard for her to look at the blonde, to think that the only reason she's in this mess is because of her and the stupid Alex woman and their pale ideas of saving everyone from this virus.

“There we go.” Lena points into the setting sun at the town that springs up in front of them, not stopping to take in the view. She hasn't stopped since they escaped the subway tunnels and jumps over the railing without another word, landing on her feet like a cat.

Kara is less lucky. She's dead on her feet and uncoordinated, and her muscles are aching. Her foot catches on the railing, and with a grunt, she falls ungracefully over it, knocking into the back of Lena's legs.

“What the—”

They crash to the ground, a tangle of bodies and hair, and _how are Kara's limbs so long?_ Lena quickly regains her feet, brushing away the thought. They need to keep going if they want to reach the town before the sun goes down.

Kara gives her a sheepish grin. “Sorry,” she mumbles, red-faced but unhurt. “That was...not intentional.” She trails off, her face turning, if possible, even redder, and Lena follows her line of sight.

Her shirt has come up and her pants have slid down, leaving a strip of skin exposed right above her hip bones. Kara's eyes are glued to it and Lena tugs her shirt down, tightening her belt silently, hoping Kara didn't see her battle scars. “If we hurry, we can—”

A quiet, muted groan interrupts her and she flicks her eyes up, scanning their surroundings. Torn-down buildings, overgrown trees, rusty cars—but there's no sign of clickers.

The sound comes again, louder, and she realizes what it is, but she's still too numb to crack a smile at it.

Kara clears her throat in embarrassment, trying to cover up the next grumble her stomach lets out. “We can keep going if you want,” she offers, crossing her arms over her stomach.

Without a word, Lena reaches into her pack and tosses a can of beans at the blonde. Used to the rations, Kara pries it open with her knife and starts to devour them, sauce dripping off her chin with a muffled “thanks.”

The sight is enough to lessen the tension in Lena's shoulders but she doesn't say anything, just waits for her to finish eating.

“What?” Kara blinks, tossing the can behind her. “Have I got something on my face?”

It's meant as a joke, but Lena just raises an eyebrow and steps into her space, one hand coming up to wipe Kara's face clean of the small trail of sauce.

The air between them crackles with tension, a suddenly intimate moment that catches Kara off guard. Her eyes are wide, the blue several shades lighter in the natural sunlight, and Lena drops her hand quickly, turning to continue their journey.

Behind her back, Kara's fingers ghost the spot below her lips where Lena's hand was moments before. Her skin is surprisingly warm and soft for someone who's a self-proclaimed cold-blooded killer, and Kara watches her walk away until Lena turns back, annoyance clear on her face.

“Are you coming or what?”

“Sorry.” Kara jogs to catch up with her, her own pack bumping against her back. “It's just...I've never seen anything like this, that's all.” Once she's caught up she allows herself to look around, her wondrous expression raising Lena's eyebrow.

“You mean the woods?”

“Yeah. Never walked through the woods. It's kinda cool.”

The amused snort that drags from Lena sparks a hint of pride in the blonde and she continues her narration, excitedly picking out leaves and branches and showing them to Lena.

“I've never held a pine cone before,” she coos, holding it out to Lena. “Wanna see?”

“No. Why did Alex drop you off on us, anyway?”

Chucking the pine cone into a stream, Kara shrugs. “To find a cure. That's the end goal that we always talked about. And maybe because she knew your brother.”

The silence that follows her comment is thick and heavy, and Kara stops talking for a while.

Lena has just hopped over a dead log when a laugh makes her look back.

“Whoa, look!” Kara is standing on the log, her arms out. “Fireflies. I mean, real fireflies.”

“Yeah, I see that,” Lena says grudgingly, then keeps going.

“Sorry, I...” Kara mumbles, following her after one last look. “I lost myself for a sec.”

And Lena can't help it but she _feels_ her heart soften just a fraction. Because for just a second, they could've been anyone walking through the woods, hell, they could've been two friends going for a hike.

Because not too long ago that was her and Veronica.

The thought sobers her and she vaults onto the roof of a nearby building to get the lay of the land, needing to be alone to push down the emotions that threaten to choke her. A pillar of smoke curls lazily upwards about two miles away and she raises a hand against the setting sun, squinting into the light.

“That you, Winn?” she mutters, her sore muscles groaning in protest when she stretches.

“Where do you usually meet him?”

Kara's voice breaks her concentration and Lena grunts, unaware that she had spoken out loud. “Huh? Different places,” she says vaguely, jumping down.

“You've never been here, have you,” Kara realises with a teasing tone.

Rolling her eyes, Lena stretches her legs again before starting out and reties her ponytail. “I know this is where he lives but no. I've never been here personally,” she admits.

“And that smoke, you think it's him?”

“Sure as hell better be,” Lena mutters, sipping from her water bottle.

Ever the optimist, Kara just offers her a small smile and points in the general direction of the town. “Lead the way, captain.”

And that stupid smile and the way Kara's lips quirk when she says 'captain', it brings up a memory of her and Lex on a fishing trip, back before their parents died and he was hoisting up the sail, sunblock comically dabbed on his cheeks, his white teeth shining in the sun.

_“Where to, captain?”_

The trek to town is easy, mostly downhill, but when they reach a chain-link fence topped with barbed wire, Lena curses.

“Shit,” she breathes, rattling the fence. “It's jammed.” Scanning the top of the fence, she spots a cleared section in the barbed wire at the same time Kara does.

“Here, boost me up.” The blonde steps closer to her and Lena backs away, shaking her head.

“I don't think that's such a good idea.”

With a noise of exasperation at Lena's determination to do things on her own, Kara frowns. “Well, I can't boost you up. How else are we gonna open it?”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“No, I'm calling _me_ weak,” Kara corrects her, shrugging her shoulders. Her hair is coming out of its braid and she quickly does it up again, looking at the ground. “You have maybe 2 percent body fat,” she murmurs without meaning to, then clears her throat to cover her embarrassment, hoping the brunette didn't hear her. “Alright. Are we doing this?”

The sigh of concession that Lena gives her makes her smile and she hops up on the proffered hand, slowly pulling herself up and over the fence.

“Slowly,” Lena warns, her green eyes watching Kara like a hawk. “Be careful.”

“I'm always careful,” Kara retorts.

But right as she's about to jump down, her foot slips and she falls ungracefully to the side, letting out a cry when the barbed wire slices her arm. She hits the ground, hard, and blinks a few times as she regains her bearings.

“You okay?” Lena calls through the fence, her forehead wrinkled with concern. She's pressed herself up against it, her fingers curled around a few of the links like she's trying to reach Kara's side, and Kara pulls herself up with a wry chuckle.

“Guess I'm not _that_ careful,” she says ruefully, opening the gate with a grunt.

“Not careful at all.” Lena pushes her way through the small opening Kara created and reaches for the injured limb. “Let me see, let me see!” she says angrily when Kara waves her away, succeeding in snagging the blonde's fingers and pulling her closer.

It's stiflingly warm and humid, but Lena's breath ghosting her skin makes her shiver. The brunette inspects the cut, her eyebrows knitting together in concentration.

“It's not deep,” she says gruffly, letting the arm fall to Kara's side.

Kara just smirks, hoping the older woman didn't see the goosebumps that rose along her arm. “I told you.”

“Alright, smartass.” Giving no more attention to Kara, she begins to navigate her way through abandoned yards and the wreckage of houses. If she's honest with herself, there _was_ a moment of panic that bloomed in her chest when Kara shouted.

It's because she doesn't like seeing the people around her getting hurt, she admits to herself. It makes her feel like a failure, like she didn't do enough. She should've climbed the fence instead of letting Kara slide past barbed wire, if she was any kind of adult at all.

“Hey look!” Kara's happy voice distracts her from her spiral and she pauses, trying to see what the blonde is looking at. “Gnomes!”

“Yeah, those are gnomes,” Lena agrees, a tired hand wiping away the sweat that beads on her forehead.

“Man, I had an art book filled with these,” Kara rambles, stooping down to poke at the red hat of a particularly fat one. “I always thought they were super cute. Not fairies though. They creep me out.”

Ignoring this comment and forging onward, Lena pulls her away from the gnomes and down the main street. It's littered with rusty cars and broken glass, and the whole scene is eerily silent. When they come across a massive sign, Kara reads it aloud.

“Mandatory evacuation. Evacuate to where? Quarantine?”

Unclenching her jaw with some difficulty, Lena nods. “Some places got a heads up,” she comments in a flat tone. “Most didn't.”

“Must be hard,” Kara muses, “Just leaving all your stuff behind like that.”

“That wasn't the hard part.” Praying that Kara doesn't ask a question she can't answer, she swallows, increasing her pace.

Thankfully, Kara picks up on the bitterness rolling off Lena's rigid shoulders and they pass the next half hour in silence. It isn't like her to lose control of her emotions, to feel angry at the world for her lot in life. Life is what it is, and the best she can do is go along with it.

But this stupid smuggling job is starting to pull at the loose threads, starting to open old wounds that she's tried for ten years to cover up with scars and drinking and killing.

Starting down an alley on their right, Lena just makes it a few feet when she hears footsteps coming towards them. Holding out a hand for Kara to wait, her hand drifts to her gun as a shadow comes around the corner, but before she has a chance to draw the weapon a violent explosion blows the scavenger across the alley and into the opposite wall with a heavy _crunch._

“Whoa Nelly! What the hell was that?” Kara exclaims, peering over Lena's shoulder.

Pulling away from the heat of Kara's skin, Lena waits another moment then continues on her way. “That would be one of Winn's traps,” she answers, not even glancing at the body. “Did you just say 'whoa Nelly'?”

“Whatever. What's this guy's deal, anyway? Paranoid much?”

“That's putting it lightly,” Lena snorts, angling for the smoke column. “He used to be a hacker, broke into government servers for the right price, that sort of thing. I met him in a smuggling ring and now he's stationed out here. Too tired always watching his back for old enemies.”

“Seems like he still has to watch his back.” Kara rubs at her dry eyes, her dirty hands leaving a streak of black on her cheek. The blood has dried on her arm and she stretches the limb tentatively, blindly following Lena's back.

There's a tear in the woman's shirt and through it, Kara can see tanned skin, a shoulder blade outlined with muscle, and a faint, long scar. Her eyes are so fixed on the movement of Lena's skin that she almost walks into her when they come to a halt, holding out her hands to stop herself from running into her.

“Sorry,” she mumbles at Lena's annoyed expression. “Tripped over my feet.”

With a muted _shhhh_ , Lena points to a store across the road. It takes Kara's eyes a second to adjust, then she sees it.

There's a man standing by the door, his arms hanging limply at his sides. He's staring aimlessly at the ground and Kara squints to see his face, her stomach turning when she sees the signs of infection.

The bottom half of his face is disfigured with open sores and growths, growths that make their way up his cheek and have started to infect his eyes. Flaps of raw flesh hang off his cheekbones and a quiet groaning noise comes from his throat, mangled by the odd angle of his jaw, like it was broken and didn't heal properly. He lets out a disturbing snarl, cloudy eyes turning to stare in her direction. It's a wet sound that claws its way out of his grotesque mouth, and it startles Kara into letting out a soft whimper of fear. The creature fixates on the noise, his fingers curling into claws at his sides.

Kara's blood freezes and she turns to ask Lena if she hears it, her head moving in increments of millimeters, but the brunette is gone.

“Lena?” Kara hisses, panic stabbing through her chest, scanning the alleyway. “Lena, where did you go?”

She gets her answer when she looks back to see Lena making her way across the street, hunched over and silently gliding forwards. Not sure what to expect, Kara watches, eyes wide and heart pounding. The creature, still fixated on her, doesn't seem to notice death slinking towards it.

When Lena gets within arm's reach, Kara braces herself for the snap of its neck, the thud of the body, not wanting to watch anymore killing but unable to tear her eyes away. Neither come, because at the last second Lena wraps her arm around its neck and plunges her knife into the side of its head, eliciting a muted series of clicks and a split-second of a growl before she slides it to the ground.

Kara crosses the street and stands over the body wordlessly. The violence that Lena is capable of seems suddenly intimate and she wonders if one day, ending up on the wrong side of things, it could be her head that Lena's knife buries into.

“Listen,” Lena says, wiping her knife off on the grass and vaulting over a roadblock to the next street with ease. “Winn isn't exactly the most stable of individuals so, when we get to his house, you need to let me do the talking.”

“How crazy is he?” With a grunt, Kara follows down a ladder and over a shed, marveling at how fluid Lena's movements are when she ducks under a tripwire and scales a shorter fence. Not as lucky or half as coordinated, she almost knocks Lena off her feet when her foot catches on a jagged bit of pavement, and Lena shoves her away with a snarl.

“Watch it, or you'll get us both killed. And crazy enough to—”

Lena is opening a door to an abandoned building, the rusty-looking hinges strangely smooth, when something snaps and there's a harsh slithering sound. Before Kara's eyes can adjust to the darkness inside, Lena is hanging upside down from a rope, her breathing fast and shallow from the sudden jerking motion.

“Shit! I got you, I got you.” Kara grabs for Lena's arms, steadying the swinging motion as Lena curses under her breath. “What the heck was that?”

“Another one of Winn's fucking traps,” Lena grunts, pushing Kara away. “Hang on.” Twisting around, she slips her knife into her hand and tries to saw at the rope, but it's too far away. “Kara, you need to cut down that fridge. It's the counterweight.”

Kara, who has been watching Lena's abs flex with every attempt to cut the rope, snaps to attention, scrambling up the side of the fridge on the other end of the rope. “Right,” she huffs to herself, pulling out her own switchblade. “Easy as pie, just...”

But the rope is tough and hardened with mold and years of dirt, and there's a metal cable running through the middle. It takes her a while to get halfway through, and even the creaking of the wire can't cover up the sound.

Faint growling, ripped yells, snarls that echo around the steel beams and broken glass.

Clickers.

“Lena!”

Her hands move with a frenetic energy that marginally increases the strain on the rope and she saws with abandon, her terrified eyes locked with Lena's.

Lena, who is still hanging upside down and checking the chamber of her gun, because she can see the writing on the wall.

“ _Lena?!”_

Her response is drowned out by the echo of a gunshot. A clicker throws itself at Lena's head, mouth gaping and dripping with infected saliva.

“Just cut the fucking rope!” Too busy to see if Kara is getting attacked, she struggles from her upside-down view to shoot the next wave of clickers that enter the warehouse. There's six or seven in total, and she's dispatched five when she hears the wire snap.

Too weak to support the weight of the fridge and Lena, the rope unravels, breaking at the point of tension and sending Lena to the ground with a bone-jarring crash. Taking stock of her body, Lena groans and rolls to her knees—nothing broken, thank god, but she can hear more clickers heading for their position.

“Lena!”

“What!” Worried, she whips her head in the direction of Kara's yell, just in time to see a clicker sprinting straight for her. It tackles her to the ground before she can reload her gun, and she fights it off with her hand on its throat, the useless handgun clattering out of reach. She's exhausted and still woozy from the head rush, spots dancing in front of her eyes, when a slashing sound cuts across her world and the creature stops moving.

“You fucker,” Winn growls, a machete in his hand. “Off your ass and on your feet, soldier.”

“You really took your time,” Lena gasps out, grabbing her gun and looking around for Kara. The blonde comes running up and Lena reaches for her without thinking as they beat a hasty exit, her hand in Kara's as more clickers flood the warehouse.

The run through the streets is heart-pounding and infused with terror. Twice, they find their way cut off by the monsters and Lena has to put her trust in Winn, his knowledge of the area, to get them out of it. By the time they slam shut the heavy metal door to Winn's hideout, the clickers are almost upon them and Lena's hands are slick with sweat.

“Man, that was close,” Kara huffs, her hands on her knees. Winn walks over to her and Lena watches him warily from the wall, wiping the sweat off her brow.

And is she mistaken, but is that the sharp tang of blood?

A pause, and then she realises her hands are covered in a gruesome mix of blood and sweat. Scratch that, her right hand is, her left still holding firmly onto the grip of her gun. She can't feel the source of it, though maybe it's adrenaline, then it hits her that the hand she's trying to wipe off on her pants was the one that was so tightly clenched in Kara's only minutes before.

“Kara, are you hurt?” The words almost fearful, quietly falling from her lips. “Are you bleeding?”

Kara doesn't seem to have heard her, is holding out a hand to Winn. “Thanks for saving us back there,” she pants, and her left hand is unmistakably bloody down at her side. “Thought we were done for and—hey!”

Before Lena can blink, the ratchet of handcuffs fills the air and Winn has Kara shackled to a pipe in the wall.

“Lena?!” Kara's blue eyes are on her, pleading, scared and confused, and Lena steps forward.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

Instead of answering her, Winn's gun points at her chest and she freezes, her hands lifting automatically.

“Turn around and get on your knees,” Winn demands, kicking her behind the kneecap when she tries to reason with him. “I said get on your knees! You have any bites?”

“No, Jesus, Winn!” Behind her, Lena can hear Kara struggling with the pipe and the sounds the blonde is letting out are pulling something in her apart. “We're clean, goddammit!”

“Anything sprouting?” Winn growls, hands pulling at the straps of her backpack.

“No! Let her go,” Lena growls back, just as angrily.”

Kara, it turns out, doesn't need 'letting go', because a second later Winn lets out a yelp and Lena twists to see Kara, pipe in hand, winding up for another swing.

“Stop!” She yells, catching the pipe in both hands. There's a surprising amount of force behind it and she wrestles it from the blonde's hands. “What are you _doing_?”

“He pointed a gun at you,” Kara spits out, her eyes flashing at Winn's bent-over form.

“Lots of people point guns at me, doesn't mean your savior complex will help,” Lena chides, but she feels pride and something akin to gratitude blooming deep inside her.

It's exactly what Veronica would have done. Maybe with a little more finesse, but she would have had Lena's back.

“Son of a bitch, who is this punk? What the fuck is she doing here?” Winn yells at them, cradling his arm.

“I am none of your goddamn business,” Kara says angrily, getting in his face, and Lena steps between them before a fight can break out, suddenly remembering the blood, feeling the slippery pipe, tossing it to the side and rounding on the man.

“You done?” She hisses at Winn, accusing, blood-stained finger pointing in his face. “And you.” Her turn on Kara is just as angry. “When did you get hurt? When did we decide that you weren't going to tell me, when you're fucking bleeding all over me?” Holding up her accusing right hand, Lena searches Kara's body for an injury, her eyes meeting the blonde's when she finds nothing obvious.

“I'm fine,” Kara insists, subtly shuffling her left hand into her pocket. “Really.”

Grabbing the offending hand, Lena brings it into the light and frowns. There's a cut across Kara's palm and a deeper gash at the base of her thumb, both of which are oozing blood. They look like they were inflicted by a sharp blade, and the only thing that Lena can think of is...

Kara's switchblade. When she was sawing at the rope to let Lena down.

_Poor girl could've cut through her hand trying to save me._

Meeting the firm blue irises, Lena knows that Kara saw her arrive at the conclusion, and she lets the hand drop between them.

“We'll bandage you up,” she says under her breath, her expression softening. “Listen.” Turning to Winn, who's sharpening his machete on a rock, she holds up her hands. “I'm sorry for the rough entrance. But I need a car.”

With a derisive snort, Winn barely pauses in his sharpening to shoot them a sidelong look. “Oh, right. You need a car. Sure, Lena, take my car. Take all my food too, while you're at it. You think I owe you a goddamn car?”

“By the looks of it, you could lose some of that food,” Kara cuts in, and in a second the machete is pointed at her neck.

“You listen to me, you little shit,” Winn snarls, his eyes gleaming. “You come into my home, set off all my traps, you'd better—”

Pushing Kara back into the shadows, Lena growls in her ear, her hands holding the younger woman in place. “I need you to _shut up._ ” Her eyes leave no room for argument and Kara shoves her away with a huff.

While Lena and Winn argue over his lack of a car and the spare parts scattered around town, Kara inspects her hand. It's slowly stopped bleeding, the skin still inflamed around the gash, and she wonders if she's ever had one of those tetanus shots she'd read about.

 _Probably not,_ she thinks with a grim chuckle. Running her uninjured hand over the bloody one, she traces patterns up her arm; the beginnings of muscle forming, the cut from the barbed wire, the smoothness of the skin. So different from when she had grabbed Lena's arms back in the warehouse, all sinewy muscle and tan skin, the occasional scar.

The long scar she had felt under her fingertips, faded but raised, that traced three inches of the brunette's forearm.

She doesn't understand what it's from, hasn't been exposed enough to that sort of thing. She can't stop thinking about it, the line, the jagged healing of it. It must be from a surgery or something that had been stitched up, because the other scars she's seen on Lena—on her back, her bicep, one on her temple—aren't as neat or as straight.

“You hear me?”

Blinking, Kara looks up at Lena towering over her. “No, sir,” she jokes, taking the proffered hand with a wince.

Lena's face softens and she puts her hand on Kara's arm. “Winn, you got a band-aid?” she calls, looking over her shoulder.

“The fuck do I look like, a Red Cross?” At Lena's glare, he looks away, abashed. “Lemme see what I can rustle up,” he mutters, leading them into the next section of the building and going into a bathroom. “Here.”

Catching the boiled rag with a deft hand, Lena washes Kara's wound with a gentle touch, the warm water stinging slightly. “You really need to be more careful,” she admonishes, when Kara grits her teeth against the feeling of fabric on the open would.

“Okay,” the blonde snipes, the stinging making her eyes water, “next time I'll leave you and you can dangle there forever.”

Rolling her eyes, Lena focuses on the rag in her hand. “I didn't mean—God, are you always this annoying?” But her tone is gentle, her eyebrows knit in genuine concern, and when Kara hisses again she apologizes under her breath.

“Only when I save lives,” Kara retorts, trying to keep the flush from rising in her cheeks as Lena bends over her hand. The veins in Lena's arms are bulging from the heat and she tries to look away, but the only other place to look is Winn, so she tries to memorize the upper half of the woman's face instead.

As if she didn't already have it memorized.

As if she couldn't draw those eyebrows and the high forehead in her sleep.

Lena ties off the strip of fabric with a handy knot and her palm rests on Kara's, several degrees warmer than the blonde's. “Thank you,” she says, looking into Kara's eyes, and something between them shifts. Kara is no longer just cargo, no longer a package to smuggle out of the city.

The thought burns her like a brand and she clamps it down, too afraid to let in whatever ghost is waiting at the door. Standing abruptly, she leaves Kara to catch up, explaining the plan.

“There are parts around the city. We get them, Winn can fix us up a car.”

“Really?”

“I'm a mechanical and electrical engineering genius,” Winn says proudly, and for a second the world disappears as he boasts. “I could make something out of paper clips, a rubber band, and a battery. Might not even need the battery.”

“He's also really humble,” Lena chimes in, punching him lightly on the shoulder. “You ready to go?”

“Now hang on a second,” Winn edges, throwing Kara a concerned glance, his attitude towards her doing a complete one-eighty. “She looks dead on her feet, Lena. How long you been steering this cattle for?”

Dry eyes and a dull ache in her legs tell Kara that it _has_ been a while since they rested, and unlike Lena, her reserves of energy aren't infinite. She's exhausted and running on the fumes of adrenaline, fumes of fumes, if she could even call them that. Her trusting eyes land on Lena's and wait for instructions, one hand rubbing the makeshift bandage on the other.

Worrying her lip with her teeth, Lena calculates how much time they have left in the day and finds the math not to her liking. The sun will be setting soon and she's tired, and Winn is right. She hasn't given a thought to Kara—not to her need for sleep, anyway. She's thought about other things, but...

“Fine,” she says, a little gruffly. “I'll take watch, Kara, get some rest.”

“You're a stubborn one, aren't you,” Winn cuffs her, pointing them to a metal stairway. “I may have been complaining about owing you favours, but I can keep watch. It's not just Kara that looks bone-tired. You too, missy.”

“ _Missy?_ Winn, don't make me—”

“Sleep, Lena.” Winn's tone changes and the creases in his forehead smooth slightly. “He wouldn't want you to run yourself into the ground.”

The anger that Kara is expecting doesn't come. She guesses, correctly, that _he_ means Lex. The mysterious brother that keeps popping up, some way or another. But instead of snapping back at Winn, Lena just gives him a small, impossibly sad smile and walks to the stairs without answering.

When she's halfway up, she turns back, the annoyed look back on her face. “Are you coming or do I have to drag you to bed like a child?”

Sensing that this isn't the time to rise to the bait, Kara hurries to follow, her body getting heavier at the mere idea of sleep.

* * *

There's a dirty couch and a twin mattress, both covered in sheets that look like they've been washed past the point of no return. Lena wordlessly takes the couch, her eyes almost black and staring up at the ceiling.

Watching her for a moment, Kara decides that as exhausted as she is, she doesn't care where she sleeps.

And maybe something in her is trying to be chivalrous. Because she was raised to hold open doors and smile at people on the street, and she knows if Lena stays on the couch she won't sleep, but if she can get her on the bed, maybe, maybe the woman will be so tired she'll knock out for a couple of hours.

“Thank you,” she whispers to the steadily darkening room.

Lena's only reply is a grunt, but it's too sharp and too quick for the brunette to be anywhere near unconsciousness.

“Lena?” she whispers, hugging her hand to her chest. “The bed's kind of, um, dirty,” she finishes lamely, wracking her brain for a plausible excuse.

“So?” comes the annoyed reply. “Close your eyes and you won't see it.”

“Yeah, I just, I can't stop thinking. I mean...I'm sorry about everything.” Unsure what else to do, Kara lapses into an unsteady silence and she's seconds from drifting off when a strange noise cuts through the dark.

A noise that wakes her up instantly, her hand reaching for the knife in her pocket before she realizes why it was so surprising, so startling.

Lena is crying.

Lena is crying, horrid, muffled sobs, and the noise rips at her heart.

_Oh god, oh god. What do I do?_

“Lena?”

Her whisper goes unanswered but the sounds falter like Lena didn't realize she was awake.

“I'm coming over,” Kara says uncertainly after a minute of silence, but her legs carry her to the couch without hesitating. Lena is curled into a ball at one end, her hand pressed to her face so tightly Kara wonders if she can even breathe.

“No,” the older woman chokes out, “leave me alone—”

“Scoot over,” Kara says, pretending Lena didn't say anything, and she sandwiches her between the couch and her own body. One arm goes protectively around Lena's shoulders and with every shake, Kara feels tears welling in her own eyes.

“I'm so sorry about Veronica,” she whispers, rubbing Lena's arm with her other hand, ignoring the pull on the bandage it causes.

“I don't want your apology,” Lena tries to say, but it comes out choked and rough with tears.

“She was nice to me,” Kara continues, her voice dropping lower. “She saved my life, and—she was nice to me.”

“Kara, stop talking,” Lena demands, weak and sputtered and Kara doesn't know what else to do, but she can't sit here and listen to Lena _cry_ for Christ's sake, because it hurts her in such a selfish way that she can't sit with the feeling.

“I know I didn't really know her, but I could see in her eyes that she loved you and I'm so sorry, this is all my fault and I didn't—”

She abruptly stops talking, because something is cutting off her air. For a split-second she wonders if Lena is trying to smother her to death, but then her brain kicks back into gear and she inhales, and the scent of sweat and dirt and _Lena_ fills her senses.

Because Lena is kissing her.

Lena is kissing her with tears running down her face, and Kara is still frozen.

At the lack of response, Lena pulls away, red, wet eyes staring out from a pale face. “What's wrong? You've been looking at me all day, don't you want this?”

There's something off about the challenging way she asks the question, and shaking off her stupor, Kara nods. “I was, I mean, I do, but—”

“So take it,” Lena instructs, her hands stripping her shirt off to reveal the sports bra underneath. She knows her body, knows where her scars are, but it's dark and she also knows where Kara's eyes will be drawn to. Where they'll land automatically, whether she means to or not.

“Take it,” she says again, more forcefully, her hands coming up to Kara's face and then the blonde is kissing her back, pulling her up from the couch, sore legs stretching to meet the floor and Lena realizes with a jolt how much taller Kara is.

“Lena,” Kara murmurs against her lips, pulling back, her breath coming hot and heavy in the space between them. “I don't—”

“Don't you want me?”

Instead of answering, Kara pushes her down on the bed and Lena gasps, her throat still thick with tears.

She needs this. She needs to lose herself in this, the same way she did with Veronica, because if she has to sit by herself and _think_ for too long it'll drive her crazy and she'll do something irrational, and Kara will never get to the Fireflies.

“I do want you, Lena,” Kara says in a rough voice, her chest heaving up and down with every word. “But not like this. It can't be like this.”

Then suddenly Kara's lips are disappearing and a rough blanket is covering her and she's on her side, not registering what's happening until Kara's arms lock around her, pulling her to the blonde's chest.

“Please don't fight me,” the rough voice whispers in her ear. “Please, Lena. Just go to sleep. You need to sleep, and I—I need to not be so alone.”

And fuck if she knows what's going on. Any other time she would have broken Kara's wrist, flipped her over and held a knife to her throat until she calmed down or kicked Kara out of the room. It would have been instinct, her body would have the knife ready before her brain even caught up.

But instead, her body is lying limp in the arms of a woman she's known for less than a week, and she isn't fighting back. It's because she's so tired of fighting, of running, she tells herself. Because normally adrenaline would be flooding her right about now, whether for sex or for murder she doesn't really care, but it would be better than this fucking pity party that seems to be happening.

Except Kara isn't pitying. Kara is sympathetic, but she doesn't sound pitying. She sounds like a scared little girl and Lena is hit with the thought that maybe she isn't fighting back, not for herself, but for Kara.

Kara, who doesn't seem to have anyone else in the world and is holding onto her like it'll keep them both together. Kara, who saved her life and almost broke Winn's arm and was clumsy enough to fall off a barbed wire fence.

So she closes her eyes and feels the last of the tears drip down the side of her face, and she counts to ten, measuring her breathing with Kara's and falling asleep before she reaches eight.

* * *

“What in the hell is going on here?”

Lena is up in a flash, eyes blazing, and Winn barely blocks the knife coming at his neck.

“Morning to you too,” he says with a sly look at Kara, whose arms unlocked sometime in the early morning and is still curled up under the blanket. “Guess I should've knocked.”

“Jesus, Winn, I could've killed you.” Running a hand through her hair, Lena searches for her shirt, trying to remember the last time she slept through the night.

“You didn't,” Winn says with a shrug, nodding at Kara. “Should I leave you to wake up Sleeping Beauty?”

With an annoyed glance in his direction, Lena sits at the foot of the bed. “It's not like that,” she mutters, watching Kara's eyelids flutter at the noise. “Get out so I can wake her.”

Instead of a snarky comment, Winn just nods and stuffs his arms in his pockets. “You care, don't you? Stone cold Lena Luthor,” he says in a proud voice, “turns out to have a heart after all.” He disappears from the door frame before Lena can answer and she turns back to Kara, hesitating.

“Hey,” she starts in a quiet voice. “Kara, time to get up.”

The only response is a small mewling noise before Kara buries her face in the pillow and turns her face away from the light.

“Come on,” she says a little louder. “You gotta wake up, we have to cross the city to get the parts for a car.”

“Hm. Don' wanna,” comes the adorable snuffling response, and Lena just stares at Kara's hair, golden in the sun, fanning across the pillow.

_How did Lex used to wake me up?_

Kara, hearing Lena's boots leave the room and go down the stairs, sighs and sinks deeper into sleep. Last night, sharing the bed with Lena was the safest she's felt since this whole stupid thing started, and she doesn't want to break the feeling by fighting through hordes of clickers. She doesn't want to break the feeling by looking into Lena's hard, green eyes and realizing it meant different things to each of them.

That to Lena she was some stupid kid that couldn't sleep by herself, but to her, it was something in an entirely different universe.

Her breathing is starting to slow and she stretches languorously under the blanket, then sputters awake at the sensation of water falling on her neck.

_“Blargh!”_

“Gotcha,” Lena snarks, grinning at the sleepy bewilderment on Kara's face.

Kara doesn't stop her own smile, just yawns and sits up, water darkening the front of her shirt. “Jerk,” she says playfully, rubbing her eyes.

“I told you to get up.” The moment dissipates in an instant as Kara squeezes the water out of her shirt, the ravaged print scrunching under her fist and exposing her midriff. “We have to go. Busy day ahead.”

Winn nods at them when they come down, the hint of a smirk on his face. “Breakfast?” The can of beans and unleavened bread he tosses at them is devoured in moments, and as they start to tramp through his warehouse, he mutters to himself.

“Shoulda left them back there, can't believe I'm doin' this,” he gripes, occasionally looking back at them.

“Then why are you doing it?” Kara can't stop herself. This odd man who goes between helping and cursing is annoying her, and if it wasn't clear they needed him, she would have another go at him with his pipe.

At least it would be something to take her mind off Lena. Her thoughts are first and foremost for survival, but they ultimately turn to the survival of her small pack of two, and of course, hover infinitely on the brunette who is decidedly ignoring her.

Ignoring her, but somehow always in her way. Somehow, there's always brunette hair flicking across her vision and pale skin brushing hers and she would swear Lena was doing it on purpose, except the older woman seems so intent on pretending she doesn't exist that it can't be.

Because no one would be this frustratingly enticing in the middle of the fucking apocalypse. There's got to be another reason or maybe Lena's just bad when it comes to personal space. Which she knows is a bullshit excuse, but she can't stand that the brunette won't look her way so she stays quiet, following the two adults like a child in timeout: head down, quiet, slightly ashamed but not sure what she did wrong.

“So what kind of trouble are you in?” Finished with his quiet condemnations, Winn finally asks them a direct question. “Where's the hell's Vee?”

“It's a job. A simple drop off.” Lena dodges the second question and holds a door open for Kara, forcibly stopping herself from fixing the tag sticking out of the back of the girl's shirt.

“What are you delivering? That little brat?” Winn answers his own question, hopping a short wall.

Annoyance makes Kara coordinated and she leaps over it, her feet connecting solidly with the ground. “Fuck you too,” she grips, her shoulder bumping into Lena's backpack.

Lena steadies her with a warm hand but her eyes are hard when they meet Kara's. “Lose the attitude.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Kara says sarcastically, fed up with the cold shoulder she's been getting all morning.

Lena doesn't even justify her with a response, just follows Winn into another building. “So where are we going, Winn?”

“My other safe house.” Feet beating down the metal stairs, Winn tosses a look over his shoulder. “It's more of an armory.”

“I thought we were fixing up a car?”

“We?” Winn laughs at Kara disbelievingly. “You know how to fix a—”

“Winn,” Lena cuts him off with a shove.

Facing forward, Winn grumbles under his breath then cracks his neck, yanking on a rusted door. “Like I said. The parts are on the other side of town. Now, that side I don't ever go to cause it's filled with infected, so we're gonna need more guns.”

The sound of snarling gets louder and louder and Lena stops Kara with a protective arm, ears tuned to every sound.

“Hang on. There's one inside.”

“Yeah, been meaning to take care of that,” Winn says nonchalantly, sliding his machete out of its sheath. He seems so relaxed that Lena pulls her arm back, but the look she shoots Kara says _'stay alert'._

“You didn't answer my question about Vee,” Winn adds, walking up to a clicker that's half-crushed in a window frame. Closer inspection reveals a guillotine mechanism, clearly one of his traps, and he approaches the thrashing creature without a care in the world. “I mean, I thought the two of you were inseparable.” His arm raises and the machete comes down with a _thwack_ in the creature's neck.

Lena's jaw flexes but she doesn't look away, her face blanking at Veronica's name. “She's busy.”

Kara knows better than to say anything, so she looks at her shoes and tries to ignore the death sounds coming from the corner of the room.

“Yeah, sure...Busy. Sounds to me—” _thwack—_ “like there might be trouble in paradise—” _thwack—_ “gross.” He grimaces at the blood that splatters his shoes and wipes the blade off on the corpse's back.

“Something like that.”

“She with that no-good Malik kid again? I told her she was too good—”

Her green eyes blaze momentarily but by the time Winn turns around Lena has the blank expression back on her face. “Not in front of the kid.” Her voice is heavy with implications and Kara can't look at her, because she saw the pain in her eyes in that split second before Lena got herself under control.

“Eh. It'll work out fine.” Winn changes the subject as they approach a storm cellar, sensing that he said something he shouldn't have. “Down here,” he instructs, pointing a finger at Kara's chest. “You, don't touch anything. Lena, close the door after us.”

They descend in single file, eyes adjusting to the darkness, and the murky depths reveal shelves of ammo and weapons.

Kara hungrily eyes a handgun, not sure she's doing the right thing, and the answer becomes apparent when Lena body blocks her.

“What? I need a gun,” the blonde says defensively, trying not to sound like a whiny child.

“No, you do _not_ ,” Lena says decisively, the muscles in her arms flexing as she crosses them.

“Lena, I can take care of myself—”

“No.” The harshness of Lena's voice gives Kara pause, anger starting in the green eyes. “Just stay here,” she commands, heading to where Winn is digging in a rotting chest.

With a snort in Kara's direction, Winn tosses him a box of hollow-point rounds. “This goes on record as the worst fucking mission you've ever taken.”

“It's up there.”

“How the hell is Veronica okay with this suicide mission anyway?”

Refusing to look back at Kara, Lena clenches her jaw, the one gas lamp throwing shadows across her face, her pointed nose, the hollows of her cheekbones. The darkness ages her prematurely, making the wrinkle lines in her forehead stand out in stark relief to her skin, and make it even harder for Kara to read her expression.

“It's actually her idea.”

Winn rolls his eyes, standing with a groan. “Then the broad's not as smart as I thought she was.”

“Say that again,” Lena says in a dangerously soft voice, her body held like a rubber band about to snap.

After a confused look in her direction—Lena has never been one to go easy on the sarcastic ribbing of her partner—Winn backs off, deciding he'd rather live another day than try to start Lena's dry humor. They used to describe it as a runaway rail car, him an Veronica. Hard to start, no breaks, and no stopping it when it gained speed.

“I think you should just dump her back wherever she came from,” he says amicably, inspecting the butt of a gun. “Go find Veronica and hideout, bunker down.”

“I can't just take her back, Winn. It's...It's complicated.” The exhaustion is plain in her voice and Lena sinks down onto a crate; Winn is taking up the only bench in the cellar.

“You know, I used to have someone I cared about,” Winn starts in his voice that means a lecture is coming. “A partner, of sorts. Somebody I had to look after. In this world, that sort of shit is only good for one thing. Getting you killed.” He tries to meet Lena's eye but the brunette is looking at Kara, some sort of silent message passing between the two of them. “Now you listen to me, Lena. Vee, she knows how to take care of herself. Sure, she's fun in the sack, but she can also keep watch. What good's a kid gonna do you on the road?”

“I said I'm _not taking her back_.” Lena doesn't break, her eyes never leaving Kara's face, but her voice wavers for a moment on the last word. “It's not like that, and I'm not going to go off on my own and abandon her.”

“I'm sure Lex wouldn't be too happy with you throwing—”

There's a sudden commotion and Lena falls to the ground as something grabs her shoulder, yanks her backward. She's completely caught off guard, wasn't this place closed off to clickers? And why didn't it go for her, it's reaching for Winn and her gun is out of its holster—

And then she sees that the force that knocked her down, the creature that has thrown itself on top of Winn and is attempting—and succeeding—in landing some good punches to his head, is _Kara_.

Kara isn't even thinking of their situation, their need for a car, the fragile truce Winn has given them out of some high-and-mighty charity feeling. All she can think about is the pain that flickers in Lena's eyes whenever her brother comes up and all she can see is red, because Lena shouldn't have to explain herself to this loser, because Veronica sacrificed herself for this exact mission and Winn is trying to write it off, spit on it, because he had the absolute gall to try to bring Lex Luthor into this.

Kara never knew Lex Luthor. Kara barely knows Lena. But she knows the pain of losing someone, and the pain that Lena must be in with who knows how many dead along the road behind her, so she stops thinking and _acts,_ rage flooding her with energy and a viciousness that strangely doesn't surprise her.

“You fucker!” She's yelling now, hands clawing at Winn's short hair, knuckles starting to bruise. She hits the ground as many times as she hits him, but it gets the point across. “You—you piece of shit! Who do you think you are?!”

“Get this bitch off of me!” Winn yells, trying to protect his face. He's succeeding in pushing Kara up and away, about to throw her off of him, blood and spit covering his face.

“Kara. Kara! Kara, stop!” Lena is yelling now, they're all yelling, and Kara feels strong hands grab around her rib cage and _yank_ and suddenly she's on the ground, on her back, and looking up at a very surprised, very annoyed Lena Luthor.

“I'll kill you,” Winn snarls, but Lena just holds out a hand.

“Not now, Winn,” she growls, and he sulks off to a corner of the room to nurse his wounds and, hopefully, watch Kara be brought to justice.

“What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to get yourself killed? Are you trying to make me risk my neck for no goddamn reason?” She hisses in Kara's ear, her knees forming a cage that Kara can't escape no matter how hard she wriggles. “Are you even fucking listening to me? Play nice, or we all end up dead. Now is not the time for whatever shit you have going on,” Lena continues, her hands pinning Kara's to the ground when the blonde tries to push her off.

Lena has pounds of muscle and years of experience on her side, and Kara gives up after a minute, panting with angry resignation. “Don't blame me, he's the one that keeps bringing up your brother. He's trying to guilt you into something you don't want to do, and he's using some pretty filthy tactics.” She spits this last part out at Winn, who has the decency to look ashamed.

The chips of emerald that glare down at her are bright and hard, but when Kara defends herself, they relent just enough for Lena to blink, swallowing forcefully.

They relent just enough for Kara to see the silent _thank you_ , everything Lena can't say because Winn is there and because Lena is Lena—headstrong, determined, walled off to pain. Like a shark that will die if she stops moving, Lena pushes forward until pain is a thing of the past, so she doesn't even know the words for what she's trying to say, but she slowly relaxes and leans down, her forehead touching Kara's for a moment, their breath mingling.

“If you two are about to fuck, I will shoot the both of you and walk out of here with a clear conscience.”

Winn's snark shatters the tension like a mirror hit with a wrecking ball and Lena jackknifes to her feet, not waiting for Kara to regain her bearings before she goes back to the guns.

“You pull that shit again and I'll kill you myself,” she says to Kara, the dismissively annoyed tone back in her voice. But her eyes are saying something else, and Kara just nods silently, thinking of the way Lena's eyes bored into hers.


	4. Chapter 4

With the help of a begrudging Winn and a couple of nail bombs, they begin to make their way across town.

“Saw a military caravan crash into the high school last week. They were looking for supplies but got overrun by infected, crashed the truck, battery and all. Just around this corner.”

“You've been saying that for the last hour,” Lena grumbles, but she follows him without protest, shotgun at the ready. She won't let Kara near a gun, too afraid of what could happen; Kara could shoot herself in the foot or shoot Lena by accident.

Or worse, what's really bothering Lena, she could get familiar with guns at far too early an age. Not if she can help it that's for sure, but she knows it's only a matter of time and she's trying to buy Kara a few weeks, days, hours even, of her innocence. Of having hands free of blood.

The closest she'll get to arming her is giving her a bow and arrows from Winn's stash, and even then she's regretting it. Even then she has a hard time with the sharp realization that _maybe_ Kara can take care of herself, because the world outside is dangerous and that would mean that Kara might not need her as much.

“Now would be a really good time to move,” Kara points out, her voice a little shaky at the sounds of creatures drawing near.

Winn ignores her, hands wrapping around a door handle. “Just—gotta get this open. It leads to the—”

A gunshot cuts him off; Lena, spotting one of the infected running closer and closer, shoots it and it goes flying back, the force of the shotgun pellets sending it within feet of a group of clickers.

And just like that, mayhem erupts.

The sound immediately draws any infected in the area on their position and Winn starts to sprint, hollering at them over his shoulder.

“Lord. Keep up, kid!” It's the first time he's addressed Kara in such a way and it reminds Lena why she did him those favors all those years ago. He really does care. He's just jaded beyond belief and if she wasn't running for her life, it would make her sad.

It still makes her sad, but she doesn't have the energy to be sad and handle a life-or-death situation at the same time, so she shunts it to the back of her brain and scans the area for Kara.

The blonde is waving at her from a sliding window at ground level, Winn behind her trying to shove it open. To her dismay, Lena sees that Winn's gun is in Kara's hands but she doesn't have time to sort through all that.

“Get it open Winn!” she yells, spinning to toss a nail bomb around the corner. The detonation sends shrapnel and bits of iron flying, one of them grazing her shoulder, and the dying screeches of the infected fill the air. “That's gonna bring a lot of attention,” Lena warns over her shoulder, willing the window to open.

God might be listening, because with a horrible dry creak, the pane slides open.

“I got it! Window's open, hurry!”

“Lena, we got a way in! Come on!” Kara's voice pulls her back from hunting the clickers down and she turns, running for the window and throwing herself through it.

As her arms clear the frame she sees the blue eyes change from hopeful to frantic, then something heavy crashes onto her back.

“Shit,” she hisses, hammering her elbow backward. The weight momentarily dislodges and she manages to pull herself closer, Kara's outstretched hand reaching for her, their fingers brushing, then the clicker latches onto her leg with its deformed hands. “Shit!”

“Lena!” Kara has a hold of her now, tugging, but she's not strong enough and it's all Lena can do to keep the gaping jaws away from her flesh. “ _Lena!_ ”

“Alright, get in here!” Winn's hand is looping through her backpack strap, pulling her in, and Lena rolls on all fours as he points the barrel of his gun—thank god Kara isn't holding it anymore—and shoots the clicker point blank in the face, a gruesome shower of blood and sticky liquid splattering the frame.

“Gross,” Kara pants, yanking the window closed. “That's not gonna hold.”

“Winn, make it fast,” Lena barks, shoving a metal frame in front of the doors. They can all hear the clickers on the other side and Kara joins her, their arms pressing against each other as they shore up the barricade.

Forcing the hood of the truck open, Winn stares, dumbfounded, and Lena snaps her fingers at him, suspicious at his silence.

“It's empty,” he says in a disbelieving tone.

“What?”

“It's empty,” he repeats, slamming the hood shut.

“Fuck. Now what?” The door moves with a jolt and Lena's worry increases; she can hear Kara breathing heavily next to her and feels the panic rolling off the other girl in waves. “You got us into this, you piece of shit. Where do we go?” She hopes it doesn't come off as cold as it sounds but the taunt was meant to sting him into action.

“Anywhere but here.”

Sensing that Winn isn't going to be much help, Lena grabs Kara's face with a sweaty hand, willing her to listen. She's come this far, she's not about to lose the girl because Winn made some stupid miscalculation, and a part of her desperately needs Kara to make it through this, to justify the risking of their lives that Kara trusted her with.

Kara's cheek is hot against her palm and she can see the blonde's pulse beating in the hollow of her neck, and the way her hair is half-messy half-up is maybe, kind of a little bit sexy, but none of that is relevant to Lena.

“Get ready to haul ass.”

When they slam the door shut to an abandoned gymnasium and they're finally granted the luxury of a moment's pause, Lena looks Kara up and down, concern wrinkling her sweaty forehead.

“You okay?”

The painful earnestness in her own voice makes her wince as the invisible line between them blurs a little more. Her smuggler days seem so far behind her and all she can think of is how she's in charge of Kara, and how Kara seems very much _not okay_.

Kara doesn't answer. The fear that's eating at her throat is foreign and strange, because for the first time in days it's not directed inward. It's directed at Lena, at the look in her eyes when she started to slide backward, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the window frame. What would she do if Lena died? What _will_ she do? Be stuck with Winn until they both die too?

She shakes the thought away before it can take root. Lena won't die, Lena can't die. Lena's invincible.

“Kara?” Lena looks at her a little more closely, her eyes narrowing. She can feel her gun at her side, fingers itching towards it, and she steels herself for what could happen. If Kara's somehow going to turn, if her immunity isn't taking and Lena has to put a bullet in her brain, she doesn't know if she'll recover.Which is saying a lot, considering everything she _has_ recovered from.

After a long moment, Kara meets her eyes. “How am I supposed to be okay with any of this?”

Lena's face softens, impatient fingers pushing away the dark strands of hair falling around her face. “Take a deep breath. You're okay,” she says, trying to sound like someone other than her usual, no-fuss self. “You're going to be okay.”

“How do you know? How do you know anything?” Kara's breath is coming faster and faster, her eyes glazing over, and Lena puts the world on pause.

The warehouse disappears, Winn's annoyed grunts, his warnings, the fear of it all, and she clasps Kara's hands between her own. Some unfamiliar feeling is worming its way through her and she curses herself for morphing into Kara's mother, but she can't focus on that right now.

So instead she focuses on Kara, who looks like she's about to have a full-blown panic attack.

“Listen. Everything will be alright,” she says in what she hopes is a soothing voice. “Listen,” she says again, louder this time because she can sense Kara slipping away, and though every instinct in her is screaming that _this is not the time for a breakdown_ she knows if she loses Kara now she'll be dragging a catatonic woman all the way to the Fireflies. The urgency comes biting back, her hands gripping Kara's with a fierceness that makes the blonde wince momentarily. “Kara, take a deep breath.”

The sudden demand in Lena's tone does the trick, yanking Kara back to the moment and putting Lena back in control. The blonde's gasping breaths are ragged and uneven but she tries her best, blinking in the dusty air as her head spins.

Lena's attempts to calm her down are actually having the opposite effect, but she doesn't say that. She doesn't mention how she can feel the heat radiating off the brunette's skin, how she can see the vein throbbing in Lena's temple, how she can smell the sweat and dirt and scent coming off of her. She doesn't tell her that she thinks she might be dreaming, that Lena is her very own guardian angel sent from heaven.

Instead she presses her lips together, her chin quivering, and nods once, clearing her throat and only half-lying.

“I'm okay.”

The moment is interrupted by a violent grinding noise as infected pour into the upper floors, their footsteps and snarls getting louder and louder. Another glance at Winn tells Lena everything she needs to know—she's in charge now. With confidence exuding from every pore, she waves at them to run for a window.

“What in the sweet fuck is that?” Kara's frantic question fills her ears but Lena is too busy looking down the sights of her revolver to turn.

“Bloater!” Winn exclaims in way of answering, and they scatter, hiding from the spores it sends out and cutting their escape a little too close to home. A well-placed ladder is their Hail Mary and after Lena pushes it back over the fence, cutting off access to the house they've just invaded, they stand in the darkening living room, dust swirling from the undisturbed couch.

“That worked out well,” Kara snipes, still breathless. The shock is gone from her eyes and Lena appraises her, feeling years older than the woman that left Winn's house a few hours ago.

Seeing the stormy expression on the brunette's face, Kara attempts to start a conversation then gives up. “I'll just go...check out this side of the house,” she says awkwardly, not wanting to be anywhere near Lena when she lights into Winn.

“Winn.” The name is out of Lena's mouth like an angry epithet before Kara clears the doorway, a hand on her hip.

“Someone had the same idea, they stole my shit,” Winn hurries to defend himself, taking a few steps back from the irate woman.

“Yeah, I noticed. Now what the sweet hell are you gonna do about it?” Lena demands, sparing a glance after Kara. She doesn't want the other girl to watch her detonate but she finds the absence of Kara odd—like a missing limb or an empty stomach, hollowed out.

“You ought to be thankful you're still drawing breath,” Winn supplies angrily, not answering the question.

“No, _you_ ought to be thankful you're still drawing breath,” Lena hisses, conscious of the sound of Kara moving through the house. Like a radio station she's always tuned in to, she can sense where the blonde is almost without looking.

It's distracting and presses on her brain in a way that makes her want to funnel more of her energy into yelling at Winn, so that's what she does.

“I saved you back there!” Her hands are in fists at her sides, clenched so tightly they're almost shaking. “ _I_ had to save _you,_ because you almost got me killed! You almost got _us_ killed, for _nothing!”_

Winn shrinks under her glare, his mouth pulling down into a frown. “You know what? I'm tired of this 'us' bullshit. It's everyone for themselves and you know that. How about you go tell Vee that she can take this job—”

“Don't you bring Veronica into this,” Lena says furiously, a cold glint in her eyes, but Winn is getting fired up and not paying attention to the warning sign in the steely look.

“—and shove it right up her—” He cuts off abruptly, his eyes focusing on something behind Lena, and she turns, annoyed.

She's greeted by the sight of a swinging body, a day or two old from the looks of it, and Winn is just as surprised. His face pales a little in the dark and Lena's jaw flexes.

“Jesus. You know this guy or something?”

“His name's Brainy,” Winn says in a faltering tone, his Adam's apple bobbing.

“Who the hell is named _Brainy?_ ” It's only after she says this that she sees the rope for what it is—not a trap, but a noose.

It's Winn's turn to shoot a cutting glare, his head bowing. “It's a nickname. He was my partner,” he says stiffly, sliding his trusty machete out to cut down the corpse. “He's the only idiot that would wear a shirt like that. We got separated a week back.” He sounds choked up and Lena pretends not to hear it, pretends that Veronica isn't filling her brain with images of happier times, the domestic touch to her memories that are already fading away.

“Partner, as in...”

The look in Winn's eyes tells her everything she needs to know.

“Winn, I'm sorry. How long did you...”

Wiping angrily at his eyes, Winn turns back to the body, one hand hovering over the cold skin.“He's got bites here, and here.”

Trying to salvage some semblance of calm, Lena turns away from the rawness in Winn's voice, embarrassed at her outburst. “I reckon he didn't want to turn so he—”

“Yeah, I got it.” A moment passes, then Winn's face hardens, pain burning deep in his gut. “Fuck him.”

Lena considers telling him about Veronica. How she knows what it feels like to lose someone, how she knows exactly what he's going through because didn't her own partner sacrifice herself? Didn't Veronica undertake a suicide mission, but with bullets instead of a rope?

The sound of an engine sputtering makes them both whip around and Lena sees Kara sitting in the driver's seat of an old pickup truck, doors rusted, but definitely growling with some power.

“That's my battery!” Winn says indignantly, peering under the hood. “That fuckin' asshole.”

Another turn of the key and the engine emits a wheezing sound, and Winn scratches his head.

“Well, the battery's drained but the cells are alive.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning,” he answers Lena, closing the hood with a violent _clang_ , “We push it, get it started, and the alternator will recharge the battery.” Walking off to the garage door, he leaves the two women to confer and Kara leans her head out the window.

“What're you thinking?” She can't read Lena's expression but she places a hand on the older woman's shoulder, willing her to understand what she can't say. That she supports her, that she'll back her in whatever she decides, that she's with her til the end of the line. Even if it means dying for a car battery because this is end times and it's not like there's much else she can do.

Lena shakes her hand off and blinks twice. “I'm thinking you drive and we push. You okay with that?”

With a breathy “Yeah,” Kara smiles at her and it almost blinds her, the sheer force of that stupid grin. “I've driven before. I can pop a clutch and everything, I got this,” she says with a confidence she only half feels.

Feeling bad for shaking her off and hoping Kara hasn't decided to hate her, Lena tries to smile back but it doesn't come easily. She settles for a gruff compliment instead, knowing that Kara will value it just as much.

“You're doing a good job. Just thought you should know that.”

Kara's smile just widens, annoyingly endearing and out of place and buoying her up until she feels like she inhaled helium. “I have a good teacher.”

* * *

Her driving is slightly erratic but Lena and Winn hop into the bed of the truck, watching clickers struggle to keep up as Kara floors it. After dropping Winn off and accepting the parting gift of a gas siphon, Lena takes over the driving only after Kara promises to sleep, using the backseat as a makeshift bed.

Rain has just started to speck the windshield, forcing Lena to turn on the windshield wipers, when a rustle comes from the back.

“Aw, man!” Kara exclaims, sitting up with a disappointed expression.

“Hey, what happened to sleeping?” Lena admonishes, looking in the rearview mirror to see Kara holding up a comic book.

“Okay, I know it doesn't look like it, but this here is not a bad read,” the blonde reasons, closing the crinkly pages. “Only one problem. Right here; to be continued!” Flipping open to the last page, she points a dirty finger at the accusing white box, a photo of some superhero stuck in a trap lending a red background to the page. “I hate cliffhangers.” She pouts and Lena's heart melts a little but she covers the lapse with a huff, forcing her eyes back to the road.

“Where did you get that?”

Kara's eyes widen innocently as she leans forward, her shoulder touching Lena's. “Uh, back at Winn's? All this stuff was just lying there.”

With a heavy sigh, Lena grips the steering wheel a little tighter, not sure why she feels responsible for Kara's kleptomania. Because Winn did them a favour, because Winn told her not to let Kara wander off. Not because it's her job to teach Kara anything, not because she feels like an embarrassed parent marching her kid back to the store with a chocolate in her hand.

“What else did you get?” she says in a resigned voice, running a hand through her hair.

Kara brightens up and reaches for her backpack, pulling out a cassette. “This make you all nostalgic?”

Snatching the tape, Lena snorts. “You know, that is actually from before my time. I'm only a little older than you,” she mutters, reading the label, then pops it into the truck's stereo system. “That is a winner though.”

The strains of Kenny Roger's _The Gambler_ snake through the speakers and Kara grins. “Better than nothing.”

Even in the rain, Kara's smile is blindingly bright. It's obnoxious and stubbornly noticeable and Lena can't stop looking at it, like a solar eclipse that she doesn't have the right glasses for, but she doesn't say anything, just shakes her head.

“And I'm sure your friend will be missing this tonight,” Kara says in a mischievous tone, opening a magazine. “Light on the reading, but it's got some interesting photos.”

At that, Lena's head snaps around and she grimaces at the obscene cover. “Kara, you shouldn't be looking at that,” she says quickly, about to reach out and grab it, but Kara just leans away.

“Whoa! How would he even walk around with that thing?”

“Give me that!”

“Hold your horses, I want to see what all the fuss is about,” Kara laughs, the sound clear and crisp, and Lena notices with some surprise that the feeling rising in her cheeks is a mix of embarrassment and something else—because Kara looking at a dirty magazine comes a little too close to the Kara of her daydreams, the way her daydreams have been turning lately, at least.

Because she'd rather not admit that something in her is shifting, something that incites guilt in her because Veronica isn't even cold and in the ground but Kara is right there and so warm and inviting—

“Gross, dude. These all stuck together. Guess he was having some lonely sex.”

Before Lena can align her traitorous thoughts away from “sex” and “Kara” in the same sentence, Kara is laughing again and rolling down the window.

“Hope he has others. Self-love can be a real journey.” She tosses the magazine out the window as they roar past a road sign covered in weed and rust—“West 76, Pittsburgh, 242 miles”.

“Close the window before you let in the rain,” Lena gripes, glancing sideways as Kara pulls herself into the front seat. “That's not safe, you know,” she says in a know-it-all tone, and she sounds a little bit like Lex. The tantalizing memory is just out of reach; Lex teaching her how to drive his truck in an empty field and holding her upside-down when she almost flips the truck into a ditch. The memories of her brother are few and far between, the distance of years making them drop away and fracture, but when they do come, they're violently clear, so sharply in focus it makes her dizzy and almost nauseous with longing.

With Kara around they've been happening more and more and they still hurt, even if that hurt is a little lessened by blonde hair and clear blue eyes.

So she tries not to think of him unless she's dreaming, where she doesn't have control, and she's been doing a pretty good job of that, except for Kara. Kara, this thorn in her side with her sincere smile and sunny disposition and teaching her all over again what it's like to feel the urge to protect someone. Because Veronica never needed protection that way, she didn't need a guiding hand or someone to make the decisions; they made decisions together and they carried them out together and no matter what they took care of each other, but it was mutual.

Kara is so child-like in her innocence sometimes that Lena falls far too easily into Lex's mind, thinking that this is what it must be like to have someone to watch over. And she knows it's a dangerous path to go down but she can't stop herself.

“You know what?” Kara breaks through her train of thought and Lena raises an eyebrow in a silent question. “This ain't all that bad,” the blonde says in a mock southern accent, turning up the volume.

With this new revelation about Lex and her and Kara, Lena intentionally softens her voice, searching the blue eyes for a sign. All she sees is turmoil; Kara is putting on a brave face for her and the thought is so touching that she feels the corners of her mouth crack into a smile, one that says 'it'll be alright' and 'I've got you', and she sighs, too afraid to let the feeling spread.

“Why don't you get some sleep?”

“I'm not even tired.” Kara's hands beat out a slow rhythm on the dash, her seat reclining, and Lena rolls her eyes at the stubbornness of it all.

“Just try,” she encourages, equal parts nervous and relieved that it's just her and Kara trapped next to each other for a while. She needs to stop thinking about it, the _proximity_ , and the back of her brain keeps telling her to inch forward, to close the space between them and kiss Kara right on her stupid, perfect mouth. Kara, who isn't a girl she's smuggling anymore but a woman, one who's saved her life one more than one occasion. Kara who is falling asleep even as she turns to say something, her mouth slightly open and a soft snore starting up, one hand facing up on the center console.

She can't stop herself. One second she's fighting the tug in her gut, the one that hooks itself up behind her ribs and spears through her heart, and the next thing she knows her hand is on Kara's. They're not quite holding hands but Lena can feel every electron that passes between them, every jolt of the tires that presses her skin against Kara's.

Kara sniffs quietly in her sleep and turns her face to the driver's side, eyes flickering under the pale lids. As Lena watches, barely paying attention to the road, she feels a tear forming in the corner of her eye and she wipes it away angrily, forcing the gaping hole in her chest closed. She can barely handle driving a car right now, let alone thinking about Kara in that way. Letting herself think of anyone in that way, after Veronica, is frightening and new and makes her want to lash out and her hand grips Kara's a little tighter without meaning to.

Kara doesn't wake, just murmurs something in her sleep and curls her other arm around Lena's, her head falling onto the woman's shoulder, and Lena almost flips the car at the sensation. Blonde hair is just out of view and the hole in her chest widens each time Kara's breath hits her neck but her special brand of repressing her feelings locks them away and throws the key into the depths of her mind.

No amount of repressing her feelings can stop Lex from grinning at her in the rearview mirror and telling her to “watch it or you'll have the truck up on its side,” but for the first time in years, her immediate response isn't to wish him away. Instead, she settles in for the next 200 miles, having out arguments in her head with her brother that have been bothering her for years.

At one point she mutters aloud the words “You never would have let me have a gun,” then her eyes snap to Kara, but the woman just sighs in her sleep and loosens her hold on Lena's arm every so slightly.

Two hours later they're driving through a town when a man limping into the road in front of her makes her slam on the brakes, waking Kara up.

“Wha' happened?” With a bleary look in her eyes, the blonde squints out the windshield, her arm still twisted in Lena's.

The man is hunched over, a hand on his gut and a pained expression on his face. “Please!” he calls out, “Help!”

“Shit,” Kara breathes, sitting up and taking her heat with her. When she looks at Lena for their plan of action, she's surprised by what she finds.

Not sympathy, but the opposite. A cold, unreadable look and Lena is telling her to “Put your seat belt on, Kara,” and shifting the car into the next gear, her jaw clenched so tightly it must be giving her a headache.

“But—what about the guy?” Lena's plan slowly materializes in front of her and her eyes widen. “Lena?”

The car is already accelerating, smoke coming up from the tires, Lena's face twisting into something cruel and calculating.

“He isn't even hurt,” she says in a surprisingly bitter voice.

Just as they're about to make contact, the man curses and stands straight up, firing a gun right at them. The bullet whizzes past Kara's ear and Lena yanks the steering wheel, trying to avoid the ambush that she knows is coming. More men come spilling out of the wrecked town and Kara screams and ducks toward Lena as a pipe smashes through the passenger window leaving her stunned but unhurt.

“Lena, watch out!”

It's too late. They're everywhere, five, then ten men all coming for the car, and in her efforts to avoid them, she hasn't been looking where she's going. The front of the truck rams through the front of a building, spidery cracks forming in the glass in front of her face.

“Kara, are you okay?” Lena's voice cuts through the smoke, the burning worry in her chest making it sharp and angry, and Kara rushes to reassure her.

“I'm okay, I'm okay!”

Maybe Kara imagines the huff of relief, because Lena's next directive is terse and emotionless. “Then get out. Quick.”

They're undoing their seat belts, sore muscles and days of whiplash already making themselves known, when Kara lets out a scream.

One of the men is ripping the door open and grabbing at her and Lena feels an old flash of panic. The kind of panic that hasn't hit her in over a decade, when she didn't know where she was or how she was going to survive, when Veronica had a knack for getting in way over her head.

“Let go of me, you chickenshit!” Kara tries to wrestle herself free but the man locks his arms around her and pulls, and just as Lena reaches for her flailing legs, a rough hand fists itself in her hair and smashes her face into the center console, where minutes ago she and Kara were holding hands.

It doesn't break her nose but it stuns her long enough for the man to drag her out of the driver's seat, where she can hear Kara yelling her name from the other side as she hits the ground, concrete scraping her side. The rage clears her head but it's a second too late because the next thing she knows a glass window is coming at her far too fast for her liking and then she's crashing through it head first, ears filling with a shattering sound and Kara's screams.

The rough hands are forcing her head down, a spike of broken glass leering hungrily at the exposed skin of her neck, and she grunts with effort, hands bracing the sides of the window, already imagining the glass slicing through her skin.

“Lena! Lena!”

Maybe it's the distraction, maybe it's the jolt that Kara's panicky voice sends through her veins, but she pushes herself away from the window frame, glass cutting her fingers, and flips the man onto the edge of the window. He falls to the ground with his hands at his throat, a watery noise leaking through his fingers, and she scans the room like a hungry wolf.

“Lena!”

A few yards away Kara is still pushing against the first man, his hands around her throat, and as Lena focuses on them, he delivers a vicious backhand that sends the blonde to the ground and jumps on her.

Something delicate and made of glass smashes in her chest and the roar in her ears deafens her, desperation and fear warring in her mind, but below it all is the unceasing _rage_ that she's been carrying inside her for years.

Rage that she ended up in this mess, rage that her list of responsibilities never seems to shrink, rage that anyone would think he could put his hands on Kara and live to tell the tale.

Her body takes over and before she knows it she's standing over the man, kicking in the side of his face with her boot. Adrenaline pumps through her at a sickening pace at the sight of Kara rolling over and wheezing and she grabs the man's head in her hands, slamming it into the edge of a metal cabinet once, twice, again, until all that's left is a bloody dent where his face should be.

“Lena,” Kara gasps, and the horror in her expression twists Lena's gut. She's scared, terrified, disgusted, because she just saw Lena bash a man's face in, because the primal instinct to protect was so strong that it blotted out right and wrong and good and evil—

“Watch out!” In reality, Kara doesn't give a single shit about the corpse lying next to her but the glint of a gun sparks in the corner of her eye and she grabs Lena's hand, pulling her down as the first bullets slice the air where she was standing a second before. “Pay attention,” she snarks, a breathless smile on her face, and Lena reaches for her gun.

“You're sick in the head if you can smile right now,” she quips before popping up and shooting the man twice in the forehead. “Absolutely sick.”

Kara is too busy making a Molotov cocktail to quip back but she turns her smile on Lena and the look in her eyes is a little unsettling. It's a feral kind of grin, lit up from below by the flame that's eating at the soaked cloth, and it widens as she tosses the bottle without looking with astonishingly good aim.

“I think you got them,” Lena says dryly, after the sounds of screaming and choking die down. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I guess so. How did you know about the ambush?”

The guilt that surges up and coats Lena's throat makes her pause, bile hitting the back of her tongue. “I've been on both sides,” she says carefully, not wanting to see the look on Kara's face at the admission.

The only response Kara gives her is a quiet “oh” before they hit the stairs, Lena in the lead, but when they come up to the second floor, Kara makes a noise in the back of her throat.

“So you, uh, kill a lot of innocent people?”

Preferring another ambush to Kara's undying curiosity, Lena lets out a grunt as she searches the empty rooms. Her guilt is weighing down on her differently than before. The innocence that Kara is talking about isn't innocence, those men would have killed both of them if they'd had the chance. But they were survivors too. They were trying to loot their corpses in hopes of finding bargaining material, getting into a quarantine zone.

She also had no choice. Not with their lives at stake, not with Kara to think of instead of just herself.

“They aren't all that innocent.”

“I'll take that as a yes,” Kara says carefully, sensing that she should drop the subject. But she can't because Lena is a fascinating character, because she needs to know more, because she feels some pull between them, a magnetic force that is starting to encompass a lot more than _just surviving_

“Take it however you want,” Lena monotones, her insides swirling with conflicting emotions. She doesn't want Kara to know her that way because she hates that part of herself, but until now it's always been a necessary part. Killing was something she had had to do to survive and Kara's opinion be damned—even as she catches herself wondering what the blonde thinks of her.

Which is stupid, because once she delivers Kara she'll be nothing but another face in her rearview mirror.

Another face that's taking up the attention of her idiot brain, because right after Lena points out the bridge that is their ticket out, Kara leaps down, landing on her feet like a cat, almost giving Lena a heart attack.

“Hey! Careful with that,” Lena instructs, quickly following after. “How about you let me go first next time,” she says imperiously, in what she hopes is annoyed tone, but they both see right through her act and Kara gives her a teasing nudge.

“Come on, genius. Let's head out.” Feeling suddenly brave, Kara winks at the older woman then almost trips over her own feet when Lena blushes.

It's fleeting, like a shadow passing in front of the sun, but it's so pronounced on Lena's pale cheekbones that Kara feels herself flushing in return.

They pass the next hour in silence, sticking to the walls and hiding whenever they hear other hunters. Walking along a balcony, they come across a dirty, flooded street they have to cross and Lena's nose wrinkles.

“I'm the one who can't swim. Don't tell me Lena badass Luthor is cared of a little water?” Kara is teasing, but her eyebrows knit when Lena doesn't answer her. “Wait, are you actually scared?”

“No, smartass,” Lena says bitterly. “I just hate getting my socks wet.”

It's humanizing and so surprisingly specific that Kara just looks at her, dumbfounded, her hands in her pockets.

“Let's keep going before we draw too much attention,” Lena says harshly, but Kara grabs her hand as she walks by, unable to resist the way Lena looks with the sun on her face.

“Wait,” she breathes, her skin prickling at Lena's nearness. “You know you don't have to pretend all the time. Not with me.”

“I'm not pretending anything,” she lies through her teeth, hoping Kara will let go before her own body betrays her.

Kara's eyes go dark and her fingers flex against Lena's palm, her heart hammering in her chest. Her entire body feels like a wire about to snap, an electron right before a switch is thrown, and it makes her forget the circumstances. “You are. I see right through you, Lena.”

It sounds like something Veronica would say. It sounds like something they would whisper to each other across a pillow, legs tangled together, and before she knows what she's doing her hands are reaching behind Kara's head and pulling and their lips are crashing together, finally sating the tantalizing pull in her gut.

Kara lets out a surprised noise but quickly melts, her hands finding Lena's waist in record time. She bears down, her lips parting, and Lena registers the fact she doesn't seem uncertain—Kara is acting like this is old hat, like she knows _exactly_ what she's doing, but the thought is dispelled when she feels a tongue that is _definitely not_ her own running along her bottom lip.

“Kara, wait,” she gasps, pushing the blonde away. The blue eyes are as wide as saucers, pupils swallowing the irises, and she feels a little unhinged at the look on Kara's face.

Still dazed from having Lena's tongue in her mouth, Kara regards her with a confused expression, blinking owlishly.

“Now is not the time—for distractions,” Lena gasps, her fingers curled around Kara's biceps completely undermining her words.

The Lena standing in front of her, unsettled and devastatingly caught off guard, makes Kara want more. It makes her want _her_ more. It makes her hungry in a way she's never felt before and she raises an eyebrow, trying to imitate Lena's quirk.

“Oh, yeah?” Sunlight lands on her eyelashes and without thinking, Lena brushes a stray one off her cheek, pulling her hand back like she's been burned when Kara grabs it and kisses her palm.

“We shouldn't,” Lena whispers harshly, suddenly very conscious of how exposed they are on the balcony “We can't—”

And then Kara does something unthinkable, but Lena makes her brain go a little haywire and her arms move before her brain can stop them.

With a splash, Lena hits the surface of the water, helped along by Kara's shove. Sputtering, she strokes to a metal barricade that she uses to pull herself out of the water and stands, shocked, the sun already drying her hair.

“You little shit!”

“Yes?” Kara's perfectly set expression falters, her composure evaporating, and the peal of laughter that escapes makes Lena forget completely about her drenched socks and how dangerous it is for Kara to be laughing as loudly as she is.

Her self-control disappears and she splashes Kara with a massive wave, leaving the blonde bedraggled and dripping, and the sudden urge to kiss her again threatens to send her staggering back into the water.

Until she clamps down on it with a ferocity that she can _feel_ and clenches her jaw, her green eyes sending off sparks.

“We need to move,” she says, like nothing just happened. Like she didn't feel herself falling a little in love with the blonde who's still laughing at her. “Stop distracting me.”

“Distract—hang on, you kissed me, genius,” Kara says in an angrily confused tone. “You know, I'm getting real sick of this hot-and-cold thing you've got going on. It's really not as cute as you think it is.”

Thankfully, anger is something Lena understands, so she latches onto it, shouldering her way past Kara and jumping to the next balcony. “You think I'm trying to be _cute?_ You think I'm busy thinking about flirting with you when every second we could die from a million different things?”

“No, I think you're scared,” Kara says boldly, body blocking Lena from any forward progress. “I think you're scared,” she continues in response to Lena's baffled expression, “because you lost someone you care about and you're afraid to lose another.”

“I don't _care_ about you,” Lena hisses, the self-preserving monster inside her rearing its ugly head. “I _care_ about getting paid. I _care_ about getting back home safe, which, let's face it, isn't likely. I _care_ that my partner fucking died and left me with you, and now you—I—”

She cuts off in a choked voice and Kara's face melts into a pitying expression that does nothing to ease the ache in her chest. Desperation shows through in her tired face, a dark space yawning in side of her.

Kara doesn't care about the dark space or its implications of what Lena might be capable of, all she knows is she needs to be near it.

“Sure, Lena,” the blonde says softly, reading between the lines with ease. Reading Lena with a familiarity that scares her.

An uneasy silence stretches between them until Lena reaches behind her, unhitching one of the handguns on her pack. She offers it up in silent truce, scanning Kara's face for any degree of uncertainty, but finds none.

Understanding grips Kara and she takes it with a steady hand, tucking it into her waistband the way she's seen Lena do a hundred times.

“Now, uh, you know how to switch off the safety, right?” Some of the strength has leeched back into Lena's voice and she follows that string until she feels back in control. Until she feels like she isn't still thinking of the feel of Kara's lips, the taste of her in her mouth, the full-on lust roaring through her body right now.

“Yes, sir,” Kara says, but she isn't teasing.

“And you know it's not—you have to be careful, okay, because it's not a toy—”

“Lena. I'll be careful.”

Lena nods once, then tears her eyes away from Kara.

“Well, alright then.”

* * *

One of the buildings they come across has rusted iron gates and a large sign reading “Military Preparatory School,” which pulls Kara across the street.

“I stayed at a place like this,” she comments, crossing her arms over her chest. She's acting like nothing happened, determined to prove she's as unbothered as Lena, but she's not succeeding. Her eyes flick over to the brunette every couple of seconds and Lena has to constantly remind herself that she's responsible, she's single-minded in her efforts to get Kara to the Fireflies, she is _absolutely not_ going to kiss her again.

“A prep school?”

“Yeah, back at the Boston QZ. Every quarantine zone has one.”

“Huh.” Lena raises an eyebrow but doesn't slow her gait. “So you're a prep kid.”

“Not really,” Kara explains, hurrying to catch up. “It was just a nice way of saying orphanage. I wonder what happened to all the kids.”

“Better not to ask,” Lena mutters, aiming for the bridge. “What happened to your parents?”

With a sad sort of shrug, Kara reaches for Lena's hand without thinking, twirling their fingers together, and in waiting for Kara's answer, she forgets to admonish her for it.

“What happened to anybody's parents?”

The dismayed resignation in her voice stops Lena from pulling her hand away and she wants to reassure the blonde but she doesn't know what to say, so she just tightens her grip, only letting go when they have to clamber up a fire escape to avoid the hunters' truck.

“You know, I'm not a super big fan of heights,” Kara whispers, her hands scrabbling for purchase on the mossy brick.

“You don't have to be a fan of heights, just be a fan of living,” Lena hisses back, clinging to the wall herself and inching to an open window.

“This coming from the woman that would rather kill twenty people than get her socks wet?”

“Shut up.”

Kara watches Lena lift herself over the window, then disappear as an arm hooks itself around her neck.

“Shit!” Wasting no time, Kara leaps in after her, knife out. A woman is strangling Lena, her long hair falling in front of both their faces, and Kara runs at her, blade flashing.

Raising an arm to deflect the blow, the woman howls when Kara's switchblade bites at her flesh and it weakens her grip enough for Lena to flip her over her shoulder, straddling her with her knees.

Her unrelenting fists connect solidly with the woman's face a few times before Kara sees the barrel of a gun in the corner of the room, following it up the arm of a young girl.

“Wait. Wait! Lena, stop!”

The annoyed, strained look on Lena's face dissipates when she sees what Kara's pointing at and she lets go of the woman on the ground.

“Leave her alone,” the girl says, her voice wavering. The hand holding the gun shakes slightly and Lena raises her hands, putting her body in front of Kara's, listening to a centuries-old instinct that she refuses to acknowledge.

“Easy there.” She tries to calm the girl, hearing each and every one of Kara's breaths behind her back. “Just take it easy.”

The girl doesn't look convinced until the woman on the ground rolls over, holding out an arm.

“It's alright,” she says in a soft voice, “they're not the bad guys. Lower the gun.”

After a slight hesitation, the girl drops her arms, a betrayed look on her face.

“Man, you hit hard,” the woman groans, pulling herself into a sitting position.

Now that the immediate threat is gone, Lena's bravado is back. “Yeah, well, I was trying to kill you,” she says pointedly, her chest puffing out a bit.

The woman lets the comment pass and Kara notices that she and the girl have the same attractive look to their faces. “Yeah, I thought you were one of them too. Hunters. Then I saw you.” She waves at Kara with her injured arm, prompting Lena to shift her weight and arch an eyebrow.

“If you haven't noticed, they don't keep too many women around,” the woman explains, going over to the girl and taking the gun back with unspoken authority. “Never seen more than one at a time, and usually only for...unsavory hobbies. I'm Sam. This is Ruby, my—”

“Daughter.” Kara's voice takes Lena by surprise but closer inspection reveals that she's right. They have the same cheekbones, the same nose, the same mannerisms. “I'm Kara.”

“She's with me,” Lena says gruffly, making sure there's space between the two of them.

As Sam digs around Ruby's backpack for a bandage, she eyes the blonde warily. “How old are you anyway? Thought you were a kid, that's why I didn't kill you. But if you two are in league with those assholes outside...”

Shaking her head vigorously, Kara frowns. “God, no. They almost killed us when we got here.”

“Got here? You traveling?” Sam's eyes jump from Kara to Lena, taking in their still slightly damp clothes.

“Yup,” Lena says tersely, not wanting to give away any more information than absolutely necessary.

“Us too,” Sam says suspiciously, wrapping her arm to stop the bleeding.

“You know, we could help each other,” Kara interjects before Lena can stop her.

“Kara,” Lena warns, but the other woman—Sam—cuts her off.

“She's right, safety in numbers.” Her eyes are dark and warm as she looks to her daughter for agreement; clearly she makes her decisions on the sole condition that it keeps Ruby safe. “We have a hideout not far from here, been holed up for a few days,” she supplies, resting a hand on Ruby's shoulder. “Be safer if we chat there, and Kara can keep this one company. She's only fourteen.” Ruffling Ruby's hair, Sam nods in the direction of a warping door, her eyes watching Lena's every move. They pick up the way Lena's shoulder angles toward Kara, the way Kara's fingers pass a message as they trail down Lena's arm, and she wonders how long they've been traveling together.It's not her inclination to pry, however, so she leads the small group downstairs and out of the building, Kara and Ruby bringing up the rear.

Kara's friendly nature comes back quickly and she offers the girl a smile.

“Sorry about the gun thing,” Ruby says, not meeting her gaze directly.

“Don't worry,” Kara shrugs easily, “I would've done the same thing. Where you from?”

“Hartford,” Ruby supplies, sounding grateful for the company. They keep up a constant stream of chatter and Lena tunes it out, realizing with a jolt how nice it is to have Sam and Ruby with them.

Because they don't track her attention as closely as Kara does, don't make her second-guess her every move, don't make her as weirdly nervous with their questions, like there's a wrong or right answer.

“Is it just you and your daughter?” Sam asks, pushing through a door marked “Emergency Only.”

Lena hesitates, a cloud passing over her face, and Kara somehow senses it, coming to her rescue.

“We're not related. We're more like, um...”

By then Lena has composed herself and she finishes Kara's sentence. “I promised someone I'd look after her,” she says in a hard tone, but Sam isn't bothered.

“Yeah. I can appreciate that,” she says easily, then drops the subject as they walk through an old toy shop. “You two look like you—Ruby, what are you doing?” Her voice deepens with an authoritative tone and Lena slows her pace.

“Nothing,” Ruby says unconvincingly, then sighs and holds up a little action figure. “My backpack is practically empty,” she starts before Sam can admonish her, but the woman is already reaching for the toy.

“What's the rule about taking stuff?” she says in a disappointed tone.

“It weighs nothing—”

“The rule,” Sam says again, harsher this time, and Kara looks away in second-hand embarrassment, “What is it.”

With a helplessly angry sigh, Ruby lets the toy clatter to the ground. “We only take what we have to,” she answers, like she's said it a hundred times, and Sam nods.

“Right. Now come on,” she instructs, walking to the back of the store. Lena follows her through a locked door, but not before she sees Kara stoop down and slip the toy into her sleeve.

She can't help her proud smile this time, hiding it behind her hand as Sam pushes into what was once a well-decorated office. It disappears when Sam describes the crew that guards the bridge, but the feeling lingers.

Ruby and Kara have hit it off spectacularly. The blonde is tossing blueberries into the air trying to catch them in her mouth, and the sound of Kara's laughter mixes with Ruby's.

“Wow.” Sam's face lights up. “It's been a while since she even cracked a smile. Your girl doesn't seem bothered by all of this.”

 _Your girl._ The mood shifts and a protective surge rises in Lena, hot and expanding in her chest. She doesn't know if Sam can read the sadness etched in every line of her face but she just swallows, leans against the heavy oak desk, and changes the subject.

“So where were you headed before you got here?”

Sam's hands are gesturing, her eyes widened with hope. “We heard the Fireflies are based out west somewhere. We're gonna join up with them.”

Lena tries not to snort at that, unsuccessfully.

“Something funny?”

After a pause, she flattens her hands on her thighs, sitting down on the desk. “Just seems like there's a lot of people putting their stock on the Fireflies these days,” she offers, eyes pointed down.

“Yeah, maybe there's a reason for that,” Sam counters in a gentle but firm voice.

The self-hatred that absorbs her takes her breath away and it's a moment before Lena can answer. “So you don't know where they are and you're just gonna drag her across the country to find them?”

Maybe Sam knows she's more talking to herself than responding, maybe Sam understands that that's her exact fear with Kara. Her eyes harden and she leans forward, an intense look in her eyes.

“How about I worry about my daughter and you worry about your girl,” she suggests in a tone that says it's not a suggestion at all.

Throwing caution to the wind, Lena flicks a hair over her shoulder. “Look, we're heading for the Fireflies too.”

Sam sizes her up, brown eyes meeting green, then pulls a worn piece of paper from her pocket.

“Okay. This is us,” she explains, laying it out on the desk. “There's an abandoned military radio station just outside the city.” Here she points to a circled dot a a mile or two away. “I was supposed to meet up with some members of our group there tomorrow. You and your girl want to join us, it goes down tonight.”

Lena's eyes scan the map, committing it to memory, then slowly nods, glancing over at Kara and Ruby.

“I guess we best rest up then.”

* * *

It feels like seconds have passed before Kara's hand is on her shoulder, her blonde hair tickling Lena's neck.

“She says it's time to go,” she whispers, her thumb rubbing circles into Lena's sore muscle. “You ready?”

They hold eye contact for a long second then Lena sits up with a groan, stretching her stiff neck.

“It's gonna happen fast, so no matter what, you stick to me like glue,” Sam is saying to her daughter, hands cupping Ruby's face. “Like glue.”

“Like glue,” Ruby repeats, and Lena brushes Kara's hand with hers. Her eyes echo the same message and Kara nods in understanding, giving Lena's fingers a reassuring squeeze before Sam notices they're in the room.

“Alright. Y'all ready?” The woman asks, trying to keep up a brave front for her daughter, then they slink off into the night.

There are two hunters almost immediately outside the building warming their hands over a garbage can fire, and Lena and Sam exchange a glance.

“I'll follow your lead,” Sam whispers, and Lena nods, creeping forward. She can hear Kara and Ruby behind her and it fills her with a mix of relief and dread. Relief that she's not alone, dread that something could happen to them, but it's drowned out by her heartbeat in her ears as she reaches around one of the men, putting him in a chokehold. At the same moment Sam has her arm around the other man and they strangle them, letting the bodies down carefully. A pack of hunters down the road are cheering on a sniper, floodlights lighting up the street, and Lena motions for Kara to duck.

“On my count,” she breathes, hurdling a roadblock and ducking under the beam of the light. They make it within a few feet of the watchtower before they encounter another hunter, quickly dispatched by Lena's capable hands.

The inevitable battle inches nearer and Lena, as always, takes point. Like a spark to a firework, it's her hand that starts the showdown, sending an arrow through the neck of the hunter manning the floodlight.

“Shit, they spotted us!” The other one runs out of sight and only carefully trained ears follow his footsteps, shooting through near-pitch darkness to send him crashing to the ground. Behind her she can hear Sam's gun going off with regularity, the thud of a body following each shot, and she searches for Kara.

Kara is standing a few feet away, legs planted, and taking down the last two hunters. One of her shots clips a shoulder, the next one sinking into the man's gut, and Lena nods with silent approval, already thinking several steps ahead.

“That's all of them,” she counts, listening for signs of life. “We better beat it before the rest of them show up.”

“They're over here!” someone yells, but a second later he drops to the ground from a well-aimed shot of Ruby's.

“Nice,” Sam exclaims, then spots a ladder attached to a shipping container. “Boost me up.”

With the help of Lena, Sam, Ruby then Kara climb up the ladder, but as Kara is grabbing for it, the rusted metal snaps and drops away.

“Shit.” Kara peers over the edge at Lena then blanches when the voices of more hunters break through the darkness. “We gotta get her up,” she says frantically, hitting an unresponsive Sam in the shoulder. “Hey! Help her up!”

Sam hesitates, and Lena can see in the woman's eyes that her mind is already made.

“Ruby, get a move on,” she says in a blank voice. “I'm sorry, but we're leaving.”

“Bullshit!” Kara spits at their retreating backs. “What the fuck, Sam?!”

Gunfire erupts, mapping Sam and Ruby's path along the tops of the cargo containers, and Lena whips around, eyes searching for an escape. Just as she's realizing there isn't one, Kara hits the ground next to her.

“We stick together,” the blonde says in response to her pleading eyes, and Lena shoulder-slams a heavy metal door, urging Kara through, the impact jarring her teeth.

“Go, go, go!”

They sprint through the night, bullets strafing the air around them, and make a beeline for the bridge. Halfway there, a blinding pain hits Lena's right leg and she crashes to the ground, chin slamming into concrete and blood filling her mouth.  
  
“Lena, come on!”

Kara's worried face appears from the shadows and she pulls herself up, ignoring the pain. A minute later she almost runs into Kara, who's stopped at the edge of the bridge, eyes wide and wild.

“Oh, fuck,” the blonde exclaims, looking at the remains of infrastructure. There's nothing to walk across, no way to reach the other side, and Lena's mind races, barely keeping pace with the despair growing in her chest.

“How many bullets do you have left?”

“They're gonna kill us!” Kara yells, convinced Lena's lost her mind, that she wants to go out in some blaze of glory. “Are you insane?”

“What other choice do we have?”

Wild blue eyes are boring out of Kara's face, a smudge of dirt at her temple. “We jump!”

“No. No!” Lena revolts, getting close to Kara's face. “It's too high and you can't swim,” she argues, already knowing what will happen, already seeing them both die right here at the end of this godforsaken bridge. The truck is getting closer and closer, ramming its way towards them, and the edge of the spotlight mounted on top is throwing Kara's face into frightening clarity.

“You'll keep me afloat,” Kara says frantically, eyes ripping open Lena's chest.

“Kara,” Lena warns, giving her a sardonic glare. “There is _nothing more_ we can do! This is the end of the line.”

Kara's pupils dilate as Lena glares, her throat bobbing thickly. “No time to argue.”

And then she turns, but before she can launch herself off the bridge there's a gunshot that sounds louder than the rest.

Lena is already lunging for the blonde, tendons in her body straining in desperation for the outstretched hand, so she gets a front-row seat, watching in horror as shotgun pellets bury themselves in Kara's back a second before she falls.“Kara!”

But she's too late, the blonde hair is already fading away to the depths of the river and Lena knows there's really only ever been one option for her.

_We stick together._

Without a second thought, she throws herself after Kara.


	5. Chapter 5

The water is colder than she expected with autumn right around the corner, but the cold is nothing compared to the blinding pain in her back. There's barely enough energy in her arms to claw her way to the surface and when she does, she almost lets herself sink back down in the face of the monumental effort to keep herself afloat.

But she knows Lena followed her.

“Lena!” she calls out in a hoarse voice, water filling her mouth and washing away any volume she has left. “Lena!”

Then something warm and solid is crashing into her, gripping her shoulders with strong arms and wet hair slaps her in the face.

 _Thank god,_ she wants to say, but her lips won't move and her body hurts _so much_ that she closes her eyes and her head drops down, even as Lena yells at her to try to keep her head above water.

“I got you, Kara. I got you.”

What Lena doesn't have, however, is control over the unceasing current, and as she wraps herself around Kara, her head slams into something with bruising force and her world goes black.

* * *

Lena comes to with a groan, her head pounding and ears ringing with a pain that makes her immediately wish she was still unconscious. The last thing she remembers was water swirling around her but the ground beneath her feels suspiciously hard, like a wood floor, and as she raises her head slowly, Ruby's worried face swims in and out of focus in front of her.

“Kara,” she mumbles through dry lips, closing her eyes against the unwelcome light.

“Sam, she's awake!” The loud, unfamiliar voice makes her wince, spikes of pain jamming into her brain. It reminds her of the first time Lex let her get really, properly drunk, which was fun until the next morning when he kept teasing her and knocking things over just to mess with her hangover. The sound of footsteps fades as she blinks away stars, slowing sitting up and gritting her teeth against the pain.

“See? What'd I tell you. She's good, everything's fine.”

At the sound of Sam's voice, Lena wrenches herself to her feet, her face taking on a scarily blank expression. The effort to stay upright pounds at the inside of her skull but she forces her body to move, anger blinding her just as much as the pain. The half of her brain that's constantly thinking about Kara is already cataloging the room and wondering why she isn't there, shoving away the panic that threatens to choke her before she can deal with _this._

_Where is she? Where is Kara!?_

“You know Ruby's the one who spotted you, you'd taken quite a bit of water when—”

The aggressive shove catches Sam off guard and her ass hits the floor, her own gun pointed at her before she can adjust.

“Mom!” Ruby yells, stepping closer, but Lena turns on her angrily, the gun jerking in the child's face.

“Get back,” she bites out, throat closing with the absolute rage that moves through her body at times like this. Sam thought she could leave them, leave Kara thinking jumping off a fucking bridge and _hoping_ Lena would save her, _forcing_ Lena to save her was her only option, and Lena wouldn't kill her for it?

“Hey, hey,” Sam says in an attempt to calm Ruby down. “It's okay. She's pissed but she's not going to do anything.”  
  
“You sure about that?” Lena growls, turning the gun back to Sam. “You left us to die out there! Where is she?!”

“She's alright. She's in a bad way, but she's alive.”

_She's alive._

Nothing else matters, not to her. Not even some half-baked plan for vengeance.

Exhausted relief makes Lena's arms drop, the gun pointing at the ground, and Sam lets out a tense breath.

“I have to go see her,” she says, suddenly dizzy, her grip loosening on the gun. “Where—”

“Easy there, tiger. She's in the next room, we're almost at the radio tower. You have a pretty nasty concussion so you should lie down,” Sam says in a rush, grabbing Lena as her knees buckle, no evidence of bitterness in her eyes. “You had a lot of water in your lungs, using yourself as a life raft. You need to rest.”

“Kara,” Lena mumbles foggily, the only clear thought she has to hold on to right now, but it's hard to get her voice to work when her head is pounding so hard it might split open. Every single one of her muscles feels like an over-stretched rubber band and she's dimly aware of the gun shaking in her hands before Sam takes it from her.

“I really think you should sit,” are the last words Lena hears. Her hand reaches for the door frame even as her world tilts at a dizzying angle, then she passes out for the second time that day.

* * *

The next time her eyes open the sun is setting and she's lying on a bed with a light blanket on her. Her head feels remarkably better and she has flashes of Sam tipping water into her mouth every time she woke up, frantic and calling for Kara.

“Lena.”

The soft voice makes her whip her head around, which she immediately regrets, but it's worth it because it's _Kara,_ and the bands around her heart loosen their grip enough for it to start beating again.

Kara is right there, on a bed a few feet away, lying on her stomach with her arms crossed under her head, feverish blue eyes half-lidded.

“You're alive,” she says breathlessly, her shoulders sagging with relief. She hadn't really believed it until now, with the familiar blonde hair falling into Kara's eyes and a weak smile shining back at her.

Then her eyes travel slightly to the left and she notices Kara's bare skin in the fading light. A bandage is wrapped around her torso and it hits Lena with the force of a well-aimed uppercut.

The bandages are stained red with blood.

Lena goes a bit wild at the sight of it, lurching out of bed and stumbling towards Kara, her knees hitting the ground heavily as she falls to Kara's level, bottom lip trembling.

“Oh, god,” she whispers. “Oh, god. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Kara says, eyes wandering deliriously, and Lena notices with a painful jolt that the blonde is only half-conscious. Her eyelids are fluttering and her forehead is beaded with sweat. “It's okay.”

“Kara, you're _not_ okay,” Lena says in a voice that shoots up an octave, but Kara just sighs and closes her eyes, too exhausted to keep them open.

“Lena, what are you doing? Get back in bed!”

Entering the room, Sam sees her on the ground and hurries to help her up. It's a testament to how weak Lena is that she allows herself to be bustled back into bed; her body is too tired to put up a fight but whatever is left is straining towards Kara.

“Is she—”

“She's not dying,” Sam says firmly, a hand on Lena's shoulder to stop her from getting up again. “I did a good job getting the shotgun pellets out of her back but she needs rest. And so do you.”

“You—what?”

“I was a doctor before all this. And I dug a bullet out of your leg, which is probably why you aren't too great at standing. Now drink this and go to sleep.”

“No, I—”

“Lena, stop fighting.” Kara's voice is the only thing that makes it through the hazy anger filling up her head like cotton and she pauses, her breaths coming quick and short.

The sound of Kara's voice has a revitalizing effect her and she pushes against Sam's impatient hand, one arm reaching for Kara.

“I'm okay,” the blonde says with a wan smile, her eyes opening a slit. “She saved me.”

Unfortunately, that's something Lena can't deny. Sam dragged Ruby back into the crossfire to save them, to save Kara. To save something that's becoming more and more valuable to Lena, and not just because she could be the cure to this whole damn virus.

Still, she won't relax until Sam moves her bed closer to Kara's with an annoyed but understanding huff, close enough that if Lena stretches her arm her fingers brush Kara's ribs.

“Now will you drink this and rest? You're gonna undo all my handiwork.”

With an obligatory sigh, Lena takes the paper cup from Sam but her hand shakes so badly that the other woman has to grab it back.

“You're okay,” Sam says in a soft voice, holding her up. “You're okay.”

Lena doesn't _feel_ okay, has never felt less okay in her life except maybe right after Lex died. Suddenly Kara's weight is shifting and her hand is resting on Lena's, and maybe, just maybe she can afford to relax even as years of experience are screaming at her to check for exits and find out where her pack is.

“Fine,” she whispers, choking slightly when the liquid Sam tips down her throat turns out to be whiskey. It burns through her insides, alerting her to the fact that she was freezing, and numbs the increasing headache that has been making itself known over the last few minutes. “Fine.”

She falls asleep with Kara's hand on hers, listening to the slow breathing of the woman next to her.

* * *

Days pass in a whirl of hazy memories and moments of pain.

Sam says nothing about Lena's nightmares but she's there every time she wakes up, searching for Kara and gasping for her brother, Veronica, everyone she's lost. The few times Kara's woken up are even worse because she can feel those blue eyes watching her, but the blonde is still too weak to do much more than whisper comforting things before she falls back asleep.

Lena slowly recuperates under Sam's care, earning herself the title of “the worst patient I've ever had,” which the woman grumbles every time she sees that Lena is up and moving, but finally the day comes when Sam proclaims her “almost back to a hundred,” or what she really means, which is “well enough to ignore my yelling without falling over.”

“Listen,” she says one night after a long vigil at Kara's bedside. “I'm sorry for hitting you the other day and with Ruby—”

“I told you, I was a doctor. I've seen a lot worse, people lose their heads when someone they love is in pain.”

The words numb Lena's tongue and she tries to think of something to say, to deny it or try to apologize again but her emotions are running so high that she just stares at Sam in silence.

“We're running out of supplies,” Sam says by means of changing the subject. “She got lucky, none of the pellets went too deep and nothing's infected—but food isn't gonna last forever.”

“I'll get something,” Lena offers, trying not to imagine Sam poking tweezers into Kara's flesh, the pain Kara must have been in.

“I can get it,” Sam says with a hint of guilt in her usually clear eyes. “It's...it's my fault this happened to you,” she admits, giving Lena an apologetic glance.

Swallowing her anger, Lena stares at the corner where the wall meets the floor. “It doesn't matter now,” she says gruffly, but they both know it does. They both know that the trust between them is broken, and if it were Lena who had been shot it would be a different story, but it's not. It's Kara lying there in that bed, Kara who mumbles for her, delirious with pain, and there's no chance for Sam to truly earn back her trust.

“How are you gonna do that?”

Sam's dubious tone disappears when Lena returns an hour later, tossing the bow and arrows to the ground with a clatter and holding up a bag that drips with blood.

“Tell me that isn't a person,” the mother says, only half-joking.

“It's not,” Lena says sardonically, already starting to prepare their makeshift kitchen. “Just don't tell your daughter I killed Bambi's mom.”

“I would've just killed Bambi,” Sam jokes, and they both exchange a look before laughing, the stress of the last few days shattering into hysterics. They're still laughing a minute later when a voice makes them look up.

Ruby is standing in the doorway, bags under her eyes but a small smile just below.

“She's up. She's asking for you.”

Lena is on her feet in seconds, already pushing past the girl, who joins her mother on the floor.

“She really loves her,” she says in a quiet voice, taking over Lena's cooking.

“Yeah, she does,” Sam answers, her eyes watching her daughter. “She talks about her a lot, more than I talk about you.” Bumping Ruby's shoulder, she tries to let herself enjoy the next few minutes with her daughter. It's been years since they had time to think about anything other than running from the man who tried to trade them for access to a quarantine zone.

Years since Ruby saw her shoot her husband in the middle of their living room, not really understanding what she saw.

“You know I love you, right?” The brunette says, suddenly unsure. “You know I'd do anything for you.”

“I know.” Ruby's eyes have a look to them that hits Sam with a heavy pang of guilt. They aren't the eyes of a fourteen-year-old girl, but the haunted eyes of a woman wise behind her years.

They're Sam's eyes, staring back at her.

“You know dad—”

“I know,” Ruby says again, a little more emphatically, and they lapse into an easy silence, cooking the venison side by side, thinking of the years behind them.

* * *

“Hey, you.” Kara is sitting up for the first time in over a week, her legs pulled up to her chest, and she gives Lena a smile that's almost as bright as it used to be as Lena sits down at the foot of her bed, her chest heaving.

“Hey,” Lena says, her trembling voice immediately giving her away. “You scared me half to death,” she starts angrily, then snaps her mouth shut. Tears are already forming in her eyes and she blinks them away, drinking in the sight of Kara awake and talking.

“From what I've heard you were already half-dead,” Kara says with a grin, her hands fidgeting in her lap, worrying at a ratty sleeve. “Thanks. For saving me.” She looks up shyly, biting her lip, but there's a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

That pulls a snort from the brunette, her eyes rolling. “Thanks for jumping off a bridge right after I told you _not to_ ,” she snarks, but there's no malice in it. She's just so _relieved_ it takes her breath away.

“I didn't _jump_ , I fell.”

“You were about to jump.”

“Well, yeah. But I didn't.”

“Because you got shot!”

A tense silence blankets the room as their eyes meet. Kara's are as honest as ever, wide and trusting and pulling Lena in, but Lena is still fighting with whatever she has left to resist the temptation, emerald green eyes glaring at Kara even as she sniffs, gritting her teeth to stop her chin from trembling.

“To be fair, that wasn't my fault,” Kara points out, and looks relieved when Lena lets out a watery laugh.

“I hate you,” the brunette rasps, swallowing her sobs, her voice wobbling in a way she's never heard. “I hate you _so much.”_

“No, you don't.” Kara smiles at her. She knows what Lena is trying to say, knows that Lena can't bring herself to say it, and she tries to do it for her but the words come out all wrong.

“Look, we're okay. You're alive and I'm okay,” she soothes, and suddenly Lena's arms are around her and she's being pulled into a rough hug that makes her heart beat so hard she wonders if Lena can feel it through her shirt. Her back doesn't even bother her because it's the closest they've been since Lena kissed her that day by the water, and Lena's skin against hers sends sparks of electricity running up and down her arms, obliterating every other thought in her brain.

“Lena—”

“Don't you ever do anything like that, _ever_ again,” the brunette says in a broken voice, her breath tickling Kara's ear, and Kara sighs, resting her head on top of Lena's.

“If I knew jumping off bridges would lead to this, I would have done it way earlier,” she jokes, grinning when Lena hits her in the stomach, dimples forming around her mouth. “Just saying.” Her eyes shift to a warm aquamarine when she sees Lena's glistening in the low light from the window.

“You're not going to lose me, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere, okay?”

Lena nods wordlessly, her tongue too thick for words, and doesn't even protest when Kara presses a kiss to her forehead, a gentle thumb smoothing out the crease between her eyebrows. She wonders briefly what would have happened if Kara had died; would she have killed Sam? Ruby?

She knows the answer and it scares her. She would have killed anyone that got in her way until her anger burned itself out or she died. Because her loyalty to Kara is almost more than she can bear and it scares her so much she might burst into flames.

“Sam says we can go in a day or two,” Kara says gently, distracting her from her spiraling thoughts.

“Sam needs to let you rest longer, it's the least she can do.” Lena grimaces at the harsh tone in her voice but she can't stop herself. “She left us there, and then I—I should have been there, I should have stopped you, I should have—”

“What, Lena? You should have gotten shot instead?” Kara is trying to calm her down but she's getting worked up herself, hands curling into fists.

“I should have jumped in front of you! I should have made you go with them, I never should have let you come back for me—”

“Lena. Stop,” Kara says, in a voice that's so abruptly commanding that Lena obeys before she has time to question it. “You're looking for ways to blame yourself and I won't let you.”

“I'm sor—”

“You know I think you're perfect, right?” Getting frustrated with herself, with Lena, for not being able to say what she's feeling, for letting out all her emotions but the right ones, the ones that _need_ letting out, Kara blurts out the first thing she thinks of when she looks at Lena. “I think you're _perfect,_ and you don't apologize for perfection. Now stop beating yourself up and _come here._ ”

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Lena forces herself into Kara's arms even as the voice in her brain screams at her to turn and run. She tries to compartmentalize, one half of her thinking only of Kara, the other half trying to pinpoint the moment she decided she was unworthy of care. Was it when her parents died? When she was bullied for reading at lunch and recess? When the other kids called her an orphan and she pushed Lex and his comforting arms away, determined to take care of herself?

All of these thoughts are warring in her mind as she finds herself drawn to Kara, the wide blue eyes getting closer and closer as she leans forward, and then Kara's lips are on hers and she forgets who she's supposed to be mad at, forgets everything except for Kara.

Everything blurs together and fades into the background the second they make contact.

It's like nothing happened, they're just picking up where they left off, and she gasps into Kara's mouth at the intensity of the kiss. If she was expecting gentle from the blonde, this isn't it. Kara kisses with the intensity of the sun, one hand grabbing the hair behind Lena's head, the other wandering to the hem of her shirt, and Lena is so wrapped up in the taste of Kara and the feeling of her lips that she lets her.

Sliding a hand over Lena's stomach, Kara lets out a hungry moan. Even with years of running and fighting, Lena has curves on her that no woman should have. They're sinfully tempting and Kara feels herself raising on her knees, pushing Lena back, straddling her, pressing down with her hips as Lena gasps, and she bites down on her bottom lip just hard enough for her to _feel_ it.

Lena goes a little insane at that, her hips bucking under the pressure, all her injuries fading away. “Kara,” she gasps, but it's lost in the mix of breath between them as Kara bears down, her tongue finding its way into Lena's mouth. “We shouldn't.”

“Okay,” Kara whispers roughly, biting at her neck, and Lena moans, losing her train of thought.

“What about y—”

“I feel fine. I feel _good,_ ” Kara says hungrily, glancing up to check that the door is closed. “There's a kid next door, so we should hurry even though I'd rather not.”

“Hurry—I—what?” Lena's brain is in the middle of being rebooted and she blinks, perplexed.

“Isn't this what you want?” Kara asks, suddenly shy. She's about to disentangle herself from the other woman when Lena realizes what she's talking about.

God, her brain is _so slow_ when Kara's around.

“Yes, yes!” Lena hurries to reassure her, her hands pulling Kara's neck closer. Normally she would run them up and down the blonde's back, her skin, but she's afraid to hurt her. “If you want to,” she adds, unsure of the answer.

“Of course I do,” the blonde exclaims. “You want this, don't you?”

They're both painfully aware of that night, ages ago, when Lena said the same thing to her, but the tone of the room is so different that it doesn't bother her. The nervous energy that jumps off both of them is doing something strange, canceling itself out and coming to a head with Kara's tongue in her mouth.

“Yes.”

At that, the hungry look is back in Kara's eyes and she starts to kiss Lena's neck, sucking at her pulse point, hands wandering under Lena's shirt until the brunette's back arches, her hands fisting in Kara's hair. She can feel Lena's heartbeat against her lips and she slides along her body until her hands are on Lena's hips, her face inches away from what she's been thinking about for longer than she'd like to admit.

“Do you—”

Kara doesn't even finish the question before Lena's hands are over hers, pulling at the fabric of her pants and ripping them off. She's already so wet she can't stand it, and as Kara's breath hits her thighs, her body shivers.

“Kara, please,” she begs in a voice like liquid silk, craning her neck to see the blonde's expression. “I need—”

Her head falls back, her throat taut, mouth open in a wordless cry as Kara buries herself in Lena, her tongue obliterating any higher thought. Her hands grip Lena's hips with bruising force and she feels the sympathetic jolt in her own clit at the sharp intake of breath, the way Lena scratches at her scalp that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. The moan that she lets out into Lena's cunt is muffled and low as she loses herself in it, gathering steam, until Lena's breathy moans are abruptly cut off.

“Lena?” Kara's head pops up, the bottom half slick with come, an adorably confused expression on her face, but Lena is too busy biting her fist in an attempt to muffle her own keening noises to answer.

“Got it,” Kara says with a knowing smile, and she dives back into the hot, silky taste, relishing in the feeling of Lena's thighs trembling around her head.

“Fuck, _fuck,_ Kara,” Lena rasps, so close to the edge that she abandons any thought that _this isn't a good time_ and starts to grind down to meet Kara's tongue. “Fuck, I—”

“Hold on, baby,” Kara says in a breathy but commanding voice, and Lena is so gripped by it that she doesn't even register the novelty of the pet name. “Hold on for me.”

“I don't think I can,” she gasps messily, one hand covering her mouth. “I—oh _god,_ Kara, you're so _good, fuck...”_

Ignoring the spike of bliss Lena's words ignite in her, Kara focuses on the task at hand. She slows her pace ever so slightly until Lena is pushing against her with abandon, desperate to relieve the building pressure. Her tongue flicks in and out, going deeper and deeper with a painfully slowness, until, with a particularly spirited thrust on Lena's part, she gives in, picking up the pace again.

Lena clenches around her when she dips her tongue in deeper, and it's so overwhelming that Kara completely forgets about the child in the next room, one hand disappearing towards her own crotch, a much louder moan coming from her throat. The sound seems to kick Lena into an even higher gear and she tightens her grip on Kara's hair.

“You taste so good,” Kara murmurs, coming up for air. “Just hold on a little longer.”

And fuck, because Lena is _so close_ but Kara's voice asking her to wait is all her brain can latch on to and she lets out a full-body shudder as she attempts to obey. She so desperately wants to do what Kara asks her to that she holds herself back, her entire body taut, because whatever Kara wants is what _she_ wants to do.

“You're so good, Lena. You're perfect.”

Kara's occasional affirmations run across her mind like printed sentences, the only things cutting through the earth-shattering bliss that's blinding her to the rest of the world. She tries to give as good as she gets but it feels like her skin is being scorched and Kara has hollowed out her skull, and she's so desperate to come but so desperate to obey that her brain almost melts, the fuzzy feeling sharpening as Kara's tongue plunges deeper and deeper into her cunt.

The energy coming off the both of them is frantic and raw, a colliding of two waves at their crests, the thundering of the blood in each of their veins syncing as Lena slowly loses her tenuous grip on control.

And finally, finally, Kara hits her final stride, tongue working with a precision that makes Lena want to scream with pleasure.

“Come for me,” Kara breathes into Lena, her hands gripping Lena's thighs, and the older woman lets out a high-pitched noise of relief, riding Kara's face until she does, biting into her wrist to stop the noise so hard she worries she'll draw blood.

Even at half-pitch, the sound and the taste of Lena's orgasm is devastating, enough to fuel Kara's, and it only takes a few strokes for her to join her, her mouth still on Lena as she sucks through her own bliss. A few groans later and they both lie there, shaking, neither of them willing to break the stillness of the moment.

“You're incredible,” Kara finally says, making her way back up to Lena's face and noting with some concern that Lena's eyes are tightly closed. “Lena?”

There are tear tracks disappearing down Lena's temples and into her hair, and Kara nuzzles her cheek, afraid she did something wrong. “Lena? Are you okay? You're crying.”

With a choked laugh, Lena opens her eyes. “Okay? I'm—I'm—oh, Christ, Kara.” She can't quite bring herself to meet Kara's eyes and her heart is in her throat. “I needed that. I need— _you.”_

Kara freezes at that, staying silent for so long that Lena opens one eye to see that Kara is, in fact, listening. But instead of horrified regret she sees something akin to relief and a wonder that's so intense she has to blink a few times before her eyes focus.

Because looking at Kara is like looking at the sun, and she can't do it directly without it almost hurting but she can't look away.

“Kara?”

“I think I just died,” the blonde finally answers, her voice teasing. “I think I just died and I'm in heaven and I'm going to lie down right here and never get up.”

“Great,” Lena says, but her heart is soaring in her chest. “I like that,” she says haltingly, and she's searching for something less awkward to say but thankfully Kara's lips are on hers and her brain finally ceases its incessant grinding.

“I've been in love with you since I first saw you,” Kara murmurs against her lips, her face still slick with Lena's come. “I think you're absolutely perfect.” She bites at Lena's ear with a playfulness usually ascribed to puppies, then laves her tongue along the vein pounding in Lena's neck.

“Right,” Lena says with a throaty laugh once she's gotten her breath back. “And I'm the queen of England.”

“You are to me,” Kara answers, cutting off any conversation that allows Lena to mock herself, and the brunette closes her eyes against the wave of emotion.

“Kara, I am not a good person,” she tries, but the blonde stops her with another kiss.

“Keep talking like that and I'll make you scream,” she says in a suddenly rough voice, and it makes Lena ache for her, ache to please her and return the favor, but even as she reaches for Kara the blonde pushes her away.

“No. This is enough, having you is enough. For now.” With a wink, Kara sits up, looking around.

“Now, where did I put your pants?”

“No,” Lena mumbles, suddenly exhausted, her eyes closing. “Stay. Sleep.”

Kara doesn't object, just lies back down, taking her place as the big spoon, and they're both asleep in minutes.

* * *

Kara wakes up first, slowly, her sore muscles stretching as she looks over at Lena. She can see that Lena is still asleep and she stretches, smiling down at the woman.

When she sleeps, the years drop away and Lena looks like the twenty-three year old she is. She's absolutely beautiful, anyone can see that, and Kara watches her eyebrows twitch then leans over her.

In the spur of the moment, with Lena's face so close to hers, she kisses her on the lips. “Good morning.”

The jolt that Lena performs in response would've broken her nose if she hadn't been expecting it, but Kara is already out of striking distance and laughing at her.

“You think that's funny, do you?” Lena grumbles, rubbing at her eyes. She's not sure what woke her up, but she was dreaming about Kara and she undergoes the most extreme blush the blonde has ever seen before she stands up, grimacing. “Stupid bullet wound,” she says, eyeing her calf.

“Bullet wound?” Kara's eyes narrow and she stands too, an accusing look on her face and hands on her hips. “When did that happen?”

“It's nothing. Small caliber, through and through. Already closing up.”

Narrowing her eyes, Kara doesn't argue, just holds up her hand. The shiny scar across her palm stings Lena's eyes and she gives in with a small nod, remembering the panic that had bloomed in her chest when she recognized Kara's blood on her hands.

“Next time,” she says feebly, knowing Kara has every right to be angry, every right to hold her accountable. The way the tables have turned—it would make her laugh, if they weren't in such a fucked up situation.

The only people that are allowed to hold Lena accountable are dead. Lex, then Veronica. So why is Kara stepping into the role, and why is Lena _letting_ her?

“There better not be a next time,” Kara grimaces, and Lena feels ashamed.

When did _that_ happen? When did the power shift so that Kara was the one disciplining her, Kara was the one with the disappointed look and the “I told you so” eyes?

When Kara was the one growling at her to come and Lena was acquiescing?

Instead of saying it out loud, Lena presses herself against Kara's chest and kisses her until the blonde is out of breath, a giddy smile on her face.

“You two done?” Sam calls with a mocking look as they walk into the main room. “Ruby's asleep. I hope. Now, that radio tower is on the other side of the cliff. Place is full of supplies, you're gonna be really happy you didn't kill me.”

“There's still time to change my mind,” Lena gripes, but there's no weight behind it because her brain is still turning back on.

“Yeah, yeah. I don't think you're angry anymore,” Sam grins, turning to Kara. “How's your back?”

Kara, who was so in control and demanding and _hot_ just a second ago turns beet red, scratching the back of her neck with a nervous hand. She wiped her face off on the blanket but she can still smell Lena's come and it's more than a little distracting.

“Um. Fine. I feel much better.”

“I'm sure you do,” Sam snorts. “If you think you're fine to travel, we got only a few hours to go. You ready?”

Trying to ignore the way Lena's chest is still heaving slightly, Kara nods.

“Lead the way.”

Sam leads the way through the sewer tunnels, making Lena regret her decision to follow the woman, but it's too late. Every few minutes a mutated clicking reaches their ears and her entire body tenses, her hand searching for Kara's.

On one occasion it's a lot louder than she'd like and she purses her lips.

“You hear that?”

“No, I—” Sam's eyes widen and she fires her gun, narrowly missing Lena and taking the head off the creature running towards her. “Fuck. Fuck! Ruby, move it!”

It's cramped quarters and not enough light, and Kara almost sets herself on fire when she tosses a Molotov cocktail that reflects off an old bookshelf. The smell of blood fills the air, cloying and metallic, and Lena blinks the sweat out of her eyes, constantly looking for blonde hair in the chaos.

They're threading their way through an old hideout, trying to outstrip the noise of their own gunfire, when a massive metal door screeches on its hinges and plunges down.

“Get back!” Lena yells, and not a second too early. Kara trips back even as Ruby jumps away, the door settling with a loud groan. “Shit. Sam, help me lift this.”

But there isn't enough time and they all know it. Kara meets Lena's eyes, pleading at her through the grate, and she gives her a thumbs up that's so out of place that Lena just blanks.

 _Kara, Kara, Kara,_ her brain pounds, but her mouth is sealed shut.

“Ruby,” Sam says, seizing control of the situation. “You stick close to her, alright?”

“Sam, we gotta go. Right now.” Kara's voice is quiet, laced with urgent fear, but Sam can't tear herself away from her daughter.

“Move, Sam!” Hitting the door for emphasis, Lena jolts the other woman back to reality.

“You keep her safe,” Sam threatens, already backing away. “Ruby, do not do anything stupid.”

Lena can't tell whose face is more twisted; Sam's as she backs away, or her own as Kara retreats from view. All she knows is that the pained expression on Sam's face is mirrored on her own, because she's effectively cut off from Kara in every way.

Thankfully, they catch each other a half-hour later, Lena and Ruby turning a corner to see Sam and Kara barreling towards them, and the relief on Kara's face is palpable.

“Oh, thank god,” Lena breathes, “thank g...”

The words die in her throat because Kara is waving her arms wildly and a second later Lena sees why.

A horde of clickers is on their heels and as Sam blows past her, she considers shooting the first few, but then Kara is running by, pushing Ruby in line and grabbing Lena's hand so roughly she almost loses her balance.

“There! That doorway,” The blonde shouts, and it's only after they burst into fresh air and barricade the door that Lena's heart starts to beat again.

“Two out of ten, would not recommend,” Lena huffs, her arms behind her head as she catches her breath.

“Two? Why not zero?”

“Everything has a silver lining,” she reasons, her hand on Kara's bicep.

“Yeah? What's the silver lining here, genius?”

Cracking a breathless smile that threatens to stop Kara's heart, Lena shrugs. “I haven't figured that out yet.”

A second later Kara winces, her back going ramrod straight, and Lena's eyes narrow.

“Kara...”

“I'm okay,” the blonde assures her with another wince. “Still healing is all.”

“Still healing? You're bleeding,” Lena says sharply, eyes raking Kara's back. “Let me see.”

“Lena, I'm fine, really,” Kara protests, stepping back and forcing the other woman to grab her arm.

“You can't lie to me, Kara,” she says with a finality they both feel, and when she pulls up Kara's shirt to see bloody bandages, she falls silent.

“We're stopping here,” the brunette growls through gritted teeth, pushing Kara down to sit on a log. “Sam?”

The other woman wordlessly hands her another bandage from her seemingly endless supply, and as Lena unwraps the cloth from Kara's torso and peels away the final layer, she sucks in a breath.

She hasn't really seen it, not until now. Seven angry, red circles on the right half of her back, three of which are oozing blood, the others covered with thin, pink skin, still in the beginning stages of healing. They look painful and inflamed despite all Sam's reassurances that they aren't infected, and she hears the rush of blood in her ears.

“I'm going to clean this out, okay?” Taking the offered bottle from Sam, Lena glances at Ruby. “Can you distract her, please?”

With a nod, Ruby sits down in front of Kara and starts chattering away about some comic book she read, Kara nodding along easily.

“You know if the meteors had never fallen, Kal-El would never have had to leave his home planet behind, but Krypton was destroyed and—”

“Didn't Daxam get destroyed too?” Kara interjects, her back tensing as the alcohol hits her skin, but her face doesn't change as she debates the consequences of interplanetary politics and the destructive force of galactic meteorites with the girl. Ruby looks so happy to finally have someone that knows the Superman comics that they continue the conversation even after Lena has wrapped the bandages back up, after she's kissed the top of Kara's head and gone ahead with Sam.

“Watching her for someone, huh,” Sam says with a sad smile, and Lena shrugs. “These things happen.” Sam pats her back with a knowing look. “You're lucky.”

“These things don't happen to me,” Lena mutters darkly, but just then Kara laughs and she turns to see the two girls teaching each other a secret handshake, Kara bumbling along to Ruby's practiced movements.

“Looks like it already did,” Sam says sympathetically, and Lena just rolls her eyes.

The green and fresh air is welcome after hours spent in sewer tunnels, and they all let loose a little. Kara and Ruby take turns tossing nuts into each other's mouth and Lena and Sam start to talk, getting to know a little more of each other.

Which is dangerous, Lena knows, because it's hard to kill someone once you know them, but she also knows that if anything happens to put Kara in danger, she'll kill Sam and her daughter with her bare hands.

The thought frightens her and she shakes it away, focusing on the sound of Kara's laugh.

“So how exactly were you going to find the Fireflies?” Sam asks, checking the cut on her arm from Kara's switchblade, which has almost completely healed.

It can't possibly hurt to tell the truth now, Lena supposes. “I know a guy. Old friend, James. He was a Firefly,” she supplies. “Last I heard he was in Wyoming. We get there, find him, find the Fireflies. What do you say, you in?”

It's a fragile truce and Sam takes it gracefully.

“Sounds like a plan,” she agrees, shaking Lena's hand with a tight grip.

* * *

A few hours later, with the sun high in the sky, their short-lived bliss is shattered when glass splinters nearby, the sound of a bullet hitting the side of a building sending them ducking for cover.

“Shit. Sniper,” Sam mutters, one hand on Ruby's head.

Lena can already see where he is, the shine of the sun on metal, and she looks at her suddenly doubled pack.

“Alright, you guys stay here.”

“No!” Kara's immediate protest is hot and breathy, and Lena cuts her off.

“Don't start. I need you guys to distract him so I can get closer, get an angle on him. Can you do that?”

Sam grimaces, unhappy with the idea of playing as human targets, but she nods. “Be careful.”

And she is. She's careful up until the point she comes face-to-face with the sniper, the familiar, Kara-tinged, protective rage surging back up. Maybe he doesn't need to be stabbed _that_ many times, but Lena loses herself a little bit in the feel of the blade sinking into flesh, in the fact that she's eliminated one more threat to Kara's life.

Kara's life, which is now as important to her as her own.

She couldn't place when it happened, this seismic shift in her emotional makeup. Maybe it was when Kara held her that first night, or when they kissed in the sun, or even when the little brat pushed her into the water.

Maybe it's all those unspoken moments when she needs comforting and Kara is there like clockwork, already attuned to what she needs without her having to say it.

Taking up position behind the sniper rifle, she picks off the men one by one as Kara and the others make their way to her, a bitter sort of satisfaction coating her tongue with each shot. Her passion to kill is still keen and unabated, and all the whispers about doubt and good and evil are drowned out by the harsh sound of the gun firing next to her ear, and all the beating up she does on herself is muted by the kick of the rifle slamming into her shoulder.

She relishes these moments. She knows she's doing the right thing, protecting Kara. These aren't clickers, aren't some innocent infected soul that's desperate for food. These are horrible, evil men trying to hurt the one thing on this entire damn earth that she cares about, and she lines up every shot perfectly.

And the thumbs up that Kara gives her in the scope, accompanied by a cheery “Thanks, Lena,” makes it all worth it.

But even as Lena watches, clickers are descending on the group, and panic makes her throat go dry. She can't yell out to them, that would mean her own death, but the monumental effort it takes for her to trust Sam, to trust the other woman's instincts to notice the oncoming attack, almost gives her an aneurysm.

By some grace of God Sam catches sight of the clickers just in time and a short, brutal fight ensues, Lena trying to help out with the rifle whenever she can. She's not as worried for Kara because she knows she can't get infected, but she makes sure to shoot the infected attacking her before picking off the others.

When one of them tackles Sam, her breath hitches, but Ruby is dragging it away and stabbing it in the neck as they roll over and over, a vicious yell coming from the younger girl.

Infected are swarming the area now, like ants crawling over a particularly tasty morsel of food, and Lena pushes away the gun, leaping for the door with fear rattling her bones.

_Kara. I have to get to Kara._

* * *

“That was close back there,” Kara sighs, lying on her side on the floor of the radio tower, her stomach full of canned peaches and Spam.

“No kidding. Thanks for the assist,” Sam seconds.

“Assist? I did all the damn work.” Lena lets herself smile, really smile, for the first time in weeks, and Kara inches closer. “Like that time James' Harley broke down and I had to fix it.”

“Genius,” Kara snorts, but her voice is full of love and her hand drifts to Lena's thigh, resting against the fold of her knee.

Sam's eyes widen comically and she turns on Lena. “Excuse me? Harley? Where the hell did you get a Harley?”

“It was James' birthday,” Lena says dismissively. “That's what he wanted to do, rent two Harley's and drive cross country.”

The envious expression on Sam's face makes her look like a cartoon character. “Aw, man. I could die happy if I could just ride one around the block,” she admits, cracking open another can with a forlorn expression. “What was it like?”

Kara sees Lena's pupils contract, sees her disappear in her memories, but she doesn't comment, just rubs a circle on the rough fabric of her pants.

“Good,” Lena says shortly, still lost in old memories. “It was real good.”

“Good?” Sam snorts. “Seriously? Give me details, describe it. Get a load of this lady,” she says, turning to Kara for backup.

Kara rolls her eyes, stretching out her tired muscles. “You know what?” She stands, hand over her mouth to muffle her yawn. “You two deserve a little privacy. I'm gonna go—”

“No, no, Kara,” Sam says slowly, like she's talking to a child, “this isn't just any regular _motorcycle,_ okay? You get on that bad boy, you feel that engine? Nothing like it?”

“Oh yeah?” Kara offers a sarcastic smile. “How would you know?”

This comment pulls a chuckle from Lena, warming Kara from the inside out.

“Seen it in my dreams,” Sam answers without missing a beat. “Vroom vroom, little lady.”

“Okay.” Bored of the mechanics talk, Kara leaves in search of Ruby.

The girl is in the next room building a pyramid with fruit cans, and Kara tries for a light tone as she enters.

“Well, it's safe to say those two have officially bonded,” she says cheerfully, walking closer to the desk. “What're you doing?”

It's not a pyramid, it's sorting, she realizes, with a tinge of sadness.

“Taking stock of all the food we found today.” Ruby looks abruptly very young and Kara feels the urge to give the girl some semblance of a childhood. Sure, her own wasn't all rainbows and unicorns, but Ruby is only fourteen. She's never known a life other than being on the run, feeling hunted. At least Kara had those years at the Military school with...

She brushes the thought away, refusing to think of Lucy.

“Did my mom send you?” Ruby asks, her grating tone taking Kara by surprise.

“No,” she answers truthfully, confused. “Why would Sam send me?”

“To make sure I'm not fucking up somehow.” Ruby confirms her thoughts, that she really _doesn't_ know anything about living, and Kara worries at her bottom lip, unsure of what to do. In the silence, the girl stands and leaves Kara at the desk, going to peer out the window with a resigned slump to her shoulders.

“Is everything okay?” Kara asks in a halting voice, completely out of her depth. The easy-going girl from earlier is gone, disappearing with the setting sun.

Ruby shakes her head but answers in the affirmative. “Everything's fine.”

“Okay,” Kara relents after a worrying silence. “Well...”

As she turns, Ruby blurts out a question, her voice high with unshed tears.

“How is it that you're never scared?”

And unbeknownst to either of them, Lena and Sam are pressed against the door, listening to every word.

“Who says that I'm not?”

“What are you scared of?” Ruby challenges, her eyes gleaming in the dark.

With a sigh, Kara rests her hands on the desk. “Let's see. Clowns. Clowns are pretty creepy,” she starts, but Ruby turns away with a derisive snort. “Um...Being by myself,” she continues, which makes the girl turn back around. “I'm scared of ending up alone. What about you?”

Lena's heart is clenching painfully in her chest and she steps away from the door, unable to listen to anymore.

_What if I fuck this up and she ends up alone? What if she dies, and I end up alone? Again._

Too exhausted to run herself in circles and because she knows overthinking is one of her many talents, Lena drops away from the door, slumping into an old love seat.

“I'm scared of those things out there,” Ruby admits. “What if the people are still inside? What if they're trapped in there without any control of their body? I'm scared of that happening to me.”

And now it's Sam's turn to leave the door, tears falling down her face. She sits in the corner by herself and stares out the window, and Lena turns her head out of respect, pretending she doesn't hear the woman's shaky sobs.

“We're a team now,” Kara consoles the girl, sliding her backpack off her shoulders. “We'll protect each other. And before I forget.”

She plops the action figure triumphantly atop the canned peach pyramid, grinning at Ruby. “If she doesn't know about it, she can't take it away. Not sure who King Arthur is, but his sword is pretty wicked.”

Ruby doesn't smile back but she picks up the toy, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“Alright.” Kara takes the hint, opening the door. “I'm pooped. I'll see you tomorrow.”

She barely has the energy to throw her bag down as a pillow, grabbing a mothy blanket from a pile. Lena is already asleep in the chair and she settles on the ground a few feet away, reaching out an arm in the direction of the brunette.

* * *

An hour later she wakes up to Lena's feather-light touch, green eyes glittering at her from out of the dark.

Kara's sleepy mumble is a little annoyed, because it's her first night of real sleep in a while and she was in the middle of a dream about gnomes and the woods, but she can't really be mad at her. “Lena? What you doin' ?”

“Shhh. Everything's fine, I just got lonely.”

“Hm,” Kara mumbles, still half-asleep. “Come join.”

Normally Lena would hesitate here, hold herself back, ask herself why she had bothered to wake Kara in the first place. But she knows, they both know, that she can't do that anymore. She can't lie to herself.

So instead she lies down, feeling a warm thrum of safety as Kara's arms wrap around her in their now-familiar way. Trying not to wake the others, she turns so she's facing the blonde. Her eyes drink in the shape of her nose, the scar between her eyebrows, and she forces herself through the next few words, feeling slightly manic.

“I'm in love with you,” she says, and her voice is deathly quiet. Some part of her hopes Kara is already asleep, but that part gives in to relief at her own mistake when blue eyes snap open and Kara kisses her.

“You already know how I feel,” the blonde whispers. “Now go to sleep. We can't have sex, Sam and Ruby are right there.”

“I didn't mean—Kara, I'm not trying to—” Embarrassed, Lena backtracks, heart hammering.

“I love you, Lena Luthor.” Kara's eyes are more alert and she props herself up on an elbow. “I'll say it as many times as you need me to, and I'll mean it more and more every time. I don't care what you think of yourself, I'm crazy about you.”

“Right. Okay,” Lena answers quietly, her heartbeat stuttering at the certainty in Kara's voice.

Kara just kisses her on the nose and drapes an arm over Lena's side, pulling her closer, and the brunette buries her face in Kara's collarbone, finally allowing herself to feel taken care of for the first time since Lex died.

“It's okay,” Kara murmurs into Lena's hair, her eyes closing with the painful realization that somewhere, way down deep, Lena is just as much the scared, lonely soul as she is herself. “You're okay. I'll take care of you.”

Lena can't even answer, just melts into Kara's front and relaxes, and the rush that goes through Kara—that Lena trusts her, that someone like _her_ somehow captured the heart of someone like _Lena—_ takes her breath away.

“I've got you.”

* * *

Kara wakes up to the smell of cooking and stretches, blinking. Lena murmurs in protest and curls back on herself, trying to hold on to sleep.

“Where's Ruby?” Kara asks in a quiet voice.

“I figured I'd let her sleep in for once. You can go wake her.”

“Hm.” Tying her hair up in a loose ponytail, Kara heads for the door to the other room, giving Lena a smile as the brunette slowly wakes up to the smell of Sam's cooking.

“Ruby?”

Ruby is already awake and facing the wall away from Kara, and she frowns. The girl is twitching, her shoulder jumping up and down, and a choked noise is coming from her.

“Ruby?”

* * *

“And how was last night for _you_ ,” Sam teases, stirring their breakfast of beans and turning the flame down.

From her spot by the window, Lena snorts, not looking at the other woman. “Fine, thank you,” she replies tersely.

“You know, I heard something the other day,” Sam says pointedly, starting to spoon bean soup into bowls. “In fact, I think you and blondie—”

“Ruby!” Kara's harsh cry cuts her off and both women leap to their feet, their stricken faces identical. A second later the door bursts outward and sometime alive crashes through the doorway.

Kara hits the ground on her back, still yelling Ruby's name, and Lena winces at the thought of her still-healing wounds. Ruby is on top of her, vicious snarls ripping their way out of her throat, and as the light hits her diseased face, Lena sees it.

The girl is infected.

“Shit, she's turning!” Running for her bag, Lena wrestles the gun out but a bullet smashes the wood by her feet, sending her scrambling back, the gun hitting the ground.

Sam is pointing her pistol at her, a terrible look in her eyes. The light has completely gone out of them and her mouth is a tight line, her chin trembling.

“That's my daughter,” she says menacingly, finger shaking on the trigger.

It gives Lena pause but she can still hear Kara struggling underneath Ruby's attack and it only takes her a moment to weigh the options—save Kara and fight off the other two, or let Sam get them all killed, accident or not.

“Ruby!”

Kara's high-pitched yell forces her into action and Lena reaches for her gun again. Another shot goes off and she waits for the impact of a bullet in her back but it doesn't come.

And then Kara is pushing Ruby's body to the side, gasping for breath, and the girl is choking on her own blood as Kara crawls away to the safety of Lena's arms.

“Kara!? Kara, are you alright?” Lena checks her over with a frantic worry that hits differently than before because now she _knows_ Kara, and the relief in her chest swells painfully when Kara nods, stunned.

“Yeah, my god,” she gasps, and Lena rubs the small of her back in what she hopes is a reassuring manner.

Then everything comes back into focus and they hear Sam's broken whisper.

“Ruby?”

Kara's murmured “oh no,” only shatters Lena's heart further and she watches the gun shake in Sam's hands, a deep-rooted fear settling over her features.

“Ruby...”

“Sam?” Pushing Kara behind her, Lena rises from her crouch on the floor. “Kara, stay there. Sam, look at me.” Her voice has a terrible softness to it.

Sam is completely gone, completely out of reach from them. “Sam, what have you done?” she's muttering to herself, tears streaming down her face. “Ruby, Ruby, Ruby...”

“Sam?” Lena holds her hands up, dropping her voice and inching nearer. “I'm gonna get that gun from you, okay?” she asks tentatively, not sure what she's afraid of exactly or why there's a sickening unease starting in her stomach, but wanting the weapon away from the volatile woman.

The hand holding the gun isn't listening, however, and it points directly at Lena, who backs up a step, every one of her nerve endings buzzing with adrenaline.

“Whoa, okay. Okay, easy. Easy there, Sam.”

“This is your fault,” Sam sobs, her other hand coming up to gauntlet the gun. “It's all your fault!” Her despair knows no bounds and Lena freezes, feeling her heart pounding, blood pulsing through her body. She's very conscious of the feeling of being _alive_ because in a second she might not be, and desperation urges her to continue.

“Sam, listen to me. This is nobody's fault. Sam.”

The gun twitches to the left and Lena thinks she just might have a shot, until Sam's eyes focus on her with a terrible precision.

Something is broken in those eyes, something that reeks of gunshots and a birthday and blood spreading across her brother's shirt—something that will never be fixed, no matter how much time passes.

“Sam, no!”

A second later, Sam's brains splatter the wall behind her.

Lena reaches for Kara, pulling her close and covering her eyes as blood leaks across the floor.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Last of Us Part II came out 2 weeks ago and I'm still not okay.

“Jackson County Snake River Trail. That means we're close, right?”

Nodding, Lena tramples a few more ferns and brushes the hair out of her eyes with a tired hand. “Yup.”

“You ready to see dear old James?”

“I'm just ready to get there.”

Kara raises an eyebrow at Lena's visible discomfort. “You nervous?”

“I don't know what I'm feeling,” Lena says truthfully, if not a little reluctantly. “He and I...have history.”

Both eyebrows shoot up at that response. “History like you grew up in the same neighbourhood, or history like I should beat him up when I see him? You aren't with him, so clearly something went down.”

“We just had a...bit of a disagreement, that's all,” Lena says with just enough reservation for Kara to know she's lying. She glances back to see a smirk on Kara's face and frowns, pausing at the top of the hill. “What?”

“What was it about? Did you two like the same girl or something?”

Something in Lena's expression darkens but she waves away Kara's guess. “Nothing like that. He saw the world one way, I saw it another. You have your friend Alex to thank for that. She promised him hope, and when that didn't do it, he disappeared.” Her tone grows bitter and Kara tries to think of something to lighten the mood.

She's confused about her loyalties. She wants to defend Alex, who practically raised her and gave her shelter and a community, but when Lena talks about her it's so convincing that she finds herself wanting to agree with the brunette, to console her.

“I'm sure Alex meant well,” she offers uncertainly as they pick their way down to the river.

“Yeah, there's a lot of that goin' around,” Lena says, quickly facing forward.

At that, Kara frowns. Their teasing evaporates with the morning fog and they're left in silence again, with Lena walking away from Kara and Kara watching her go.

It's been like this since the radio tower, since Sam...

Since Lena held a sobbing Kara, the blonde woman absolutely going to pieces over what happened. It wasn't that they knew them well but Sam and Ruby had saved their lives on more than one occasion—and the whole thing was so horrible to think about that Kara had to put it from her mind to calm down.

It reminded her of what had happened with Lucy. It was such a strikingly similar situation it took her breath away, and it cost her almost everything not to let herself fall apart and tell Lena everything and give up—give up on the Fireflies, give up on this stupid virus, give up on surviving, and her crazy, dumb luck.

Just when she thought Lena was beginning to see her as something other than cargo, something other than a stupid kid trailing behind her, _this_ happens. Now the brunette barely looks at her, definitely won't touch her, and keeps hovering like a mother hen with a control complex.

“Kara, pay attention. You're going to trip.”

Not bothering to answer, Kara hops carefully to the next half-submerged boulder that she _definitely saw_ and follows Lena along the bank, the words on the tip of her tongue.

_What changed?_

_How are you so cold one moment and friendly the next?_

_I said I loved her and now she won't even look at me._

_She said she loved me and now she won't even look at me._

“Kara. Kara, are you even listening?” Lena is snapping her fingers in Kara's face and her cheeks are flushed with annoyance and exertion.

“Yeah,” Kara mumbles, hating the way her eyes follow Lena's hands back to her sides.

“What did I just say?”

“Um, that Alex gave your friend James hope and now he's ruined.”

“No,” Lena scoffs, her scowl only deepening. “I said—never mind. You're obviously not listening. I said we should take a break up at that plant.”

“What plant?”

The roar of the river crescendos into a deafening hum and they turn a bend to see a massive concrete structure attached to the forty-foot dam creating the noise.

“ _That_ plant,” Lena says in an emotionless yet somehow still annoyed voice. “We'll have to cut through it. I don't see a way around but you need a break.”

“Lena, my back is fine—”

“Don't argue,” the older woman snaps. “We're stopping here.”

Her gruff tone doesn't even begin to hint at the concern, the fear she harbors for Kara's well-being. What happened with Sam only enforced Lena's urge to protect her, to use her own body as a shield between Kara and the world. They should never have teamed up, they should never have stayed that long in once place. It's all her fault that Kara had to go through that, and the only way she can ease her guilt is through anger.

Maybe later when everything is a little less stressful, she'll find the words that she knows Kara needs to hear. But not now, not with so much on the line and a guilt so sharp it hurts to breathe every time she sees Kara's still-healing back.

And what else can Kara do but flatten her own growing annoyance and hurt and follow Lena inside? That's all she's been doing lately, following, and she suspects if it was anyone but Lena she would have written them off long ago. But it _is_ Lena, so she bites her tongue and welcomes the coolness of the building's shade, a welcome relief after the muggy heat that's been sticking to them all day.

Lena has just started tugging on the large door frame when a clicking noise starts, alarmingly close, but high up enough that Kara whips her head around not sure what to expect.

There are two guns pointing at her, a man and a woman, and even as she whips out the gun Lena gave her she knows they're no match.

“Don't even think about it. Tell the girl to drop her gun.”

Another female voice makes them both turn the other way as it barks at them from a post above the door. Lena, sensing that Kara might do something stupid like try to shoot her way out, puts her hands up.

“Kara, do as the lady says.” Her voice is soft and commanding and despite their frosty last week the blonde doesn't hesitate, raising her hands above her head and showing her finger off the trigger.

“Tell me you're just lost,” the woman says, not relaxing her defensive stance.

“Didn't know the place was occupied,” Lena calls up, careful to keep her hands in sight. “We just need to pass through.”

“Pass—wait a second.” The disbelief in the woman's tone registers at the same time her face does, and Lena can't stop her jaw from dropping in shock, her eyes widening at the familiar face.

“Kelly?”

Someone shouts a command and then Kelly is rushing down the stairs and throwing herself and Lena, squeezing her into a hug so tight it feels like her eyeballs are about to pop out of their sockets.

“Oh my god! Lena! I thought—I can't believe you're alive!”

Kara gives the woman a glare, her hand gripping her gun as jealousy flashes through her, but the glare softens as Lena returns the hug.

“Who's she?” She asks Lena gruffly, trying to keep the envy out of her voice.

It doesn't work.

“Adoptive sister,” Lena gets out through the hug, but for the first time in weeks she's completely distracted from Kara. “Hey, Kelly,” she says softly. “Long time no see.” She's patting the back of her childhood friend and already being pulled back through the years. If Kelly is here, then so is her older brother, the one face she hasn't been praying still exists as the years pass.

And then there is James, one hand clutching a machine gun, the other opening for a hug, her childhood nickname on his lips.

The name that, up until now, only two people used to call her, both of which are dead.

“Lee! You—”

Her hand is already slicing through the air and it comes down with all the anger she has in her—which is quite a lot, apparently, because James stumbles back from the force of the blow, the slap echoing off the cement walls. The sudden force of Lena's anger physically pushes Kara back, giving her a full view of the scene—James and Lena facing off, the woman from the wall—Kelly—looking taken aback but not completely surprised.

“Okay, I guess I deserved that.”

“You think?”

James's defensive reply is lost in the sound of another slap as the other men look on, the beginnings of amusement on their faces.

“Alright, alright! Jesus, Lee! I'm sorry, okay?!”

“ _Sorry?_ You sack of shit, you—”

Lena's face darkens and her hand comes up again in a backhand but he catches it a second before it connects with his face.

“Lena, wait—Wait! Not the boys!”

He drops Lena's hand like a hot potato in order to cover his crotch, barely blocking her well-placed knee and groaning at the half-absorbed blow.

Lena finally drops back with a furious expression, panting, and Kara tries to not let it show on her face how affected she is by the sudden anger. It beats Lena's cold shoulder and the even colder monosyllabic answers she's been getting.

It even turns her on a little.

Okay, _a lot._

_What happened between them?_

“You know what?” Lena shakes her head. “You're not even worth it.”

Once Lena goes silent, no one appears to know what to say and James shuffles his feet in the dirt for an awkward moment before addressing the both of them, acknowledging Kara's existence for the first time. “This is Andrea,” he says, pointing to the other woman who has joined them, her gun no longer pointed at Kara's face. “Be nice to her, she sort of runs things around here. And Kelly here is my sister.”

Lena eyes Andrea suspiciously and gives her a terse nod. “Thanks for not blowing my head off,” she says in a calculated tone.

“Would've been embarrassing,” Andrea says in an equally measured voice, “Considering you're practically my sister-in-law. I've heard a lot about you, Lena Luthor.”

Even though she tries her best, Lena can't keep her eyes from sliding accusingly towards James, who fidgets under her glare.

“We all gotta get wrangled up at some point,” he says modestly, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, but Lena's derisive snort seals his lips.

Thankfully, Andrea has the wherewithal to break the awkward silence that follows.

“Kara, right?” She turns to the blonde who offers her a smile. “What brings you here?”

Without meaning to, Kara looks to Lena for a lead, some hint of how they're supposed to act, but Lena is too busy glaring at James and James is too busy looking at the ground, and Kelly is too busy glancing between the both of them to save her.

“Er, it's kind of a long story,” she says tentatively, looking between all four adults.

“Why don't we bring them inside?” James suggests, keeping a wary eye on Lena.

“Sure,” Kelly says easily, offering Kara the first smile aside from Lena's that she's seen in weeks and turning to lead the way. “You hungry?”

Kara's face lights up at the prospect of food and she claps her hands together. “Starving,” she says gratefully, following the older woman inside.

Lena is right on her heels, shooting James one last, long dirty look as he closes the gate behind them.

* * *

“No way! You guys have horses?” Kara's voice breaks the tense silence and Lena tries to wipe her face of emotion as she catches up to the blonde. “Can I pet him?”

 _Dammit_. _So much for staying stoic._

Kara is smiling at her like a little kid on Christmas morning, one hand stroking a Palomino's ears. “Look, Lena!” She forgets how distant the brunette has been, automatically sharing her excitement. “Isn't he pretty,” she croons, running her other hand down the horse's neck. “Yes you are, what a nice horse.”

Looking at her with a new appraisal, Andrea raises an eyebrow. “You ever ride one?”

“I have, actually.”

This new bit of information is so surprising that Lena doesn't stop herself. “When have you ridden a horse?”

Kara's smile turns a little abashed as she meets Lena's eyes, holding their gaze for as long as she can bear. “Winston, this soldier back in the zone. He gave me lessons.”

“You know,” Kelly pipes up, “If you want, we can take him riding later.”

“That would be _awesome!”_ Kara lights up and Lena, already losing her tenuous control in the presence of such old friends, feels herself smiling back.

This only makes Kara smile wider and opens some kind of hole in Lena's chest, one that sucks at her insides like a black hole.

“ _Andrea, can you come to the generator room? About to start up generator six, wanted your go ahead.”_

The walkie talkie blinks and Andrea sighs, unclipping it from her belt. “I'll be right down. You guys go ahead, get something to eat.” She gives James a kiss on the cheek that Lena tracks with a steely look then heads for another building, leaving them to wander to the mess hall.

They sit in silence for almost twenty minutes at a dirty bench, none of them willing to say the first word. Kara, between bites potato and wild rabbit, watches Lena's every move like a hawk, but Lena just glares at her plate with the stubbornness of a pig trying to fly.

Eventually, one of them breaks.

“You know,” Kelly offers with a smile that betrays the concern in her eyes, “I could take Kara on a tour. Show her the plant.”

“That's a good idea,” Lena says in a cold voice before Kara can object. “James, take me to that generator your _wife_ mentioned. I'd love to see it.”

Something in the biting sarcasm sets Kara off but Lena doesn't even glance her way before following James out of the room, leaving Kara alone with Kelly.

“So,” Kelly starts, not sure what to say but grateful that Lena with her unnerving glares is gone, but Kara saves her with her rambling.

“I can't believe you guys have generators! And electricity, and horses, and—where did you get these potatoes? How do you grow them, do you just water them? I saw some old bags of fertilizer back at the military school in Boston, but Lena told me on the trip over here that people haven't really tried to go back to farming, which is stupid because it would help the food problem.”

She takes a breath and looks at Kelly with eager anticipation, which draws a laugh out of the older woman.

“Alright, one thing at a time. I can show you the generator or the stables or the rooftop gardens if you like, but I think you can guess where we get fertilizer.”

“I want to see the garden first! Do you make it? The fertilizer, I mean.”

Placing their dishes on a rack, Kelly points to a stairway with a teasing smile. “March, soldier. And no, we don't make it, per se. Why do you think we have horses?”

* * *

Lena turns off at the first left, taking a short, dark hallway that opens into some kind of office.

“What are you doing out here, Lee?” James's voice is soft and nervous, but he takes a seat on an upturned crate, his hands on his knees.

The vicious, silent stare elicits a cough from him and he pulls out a faded wallet, rifling through its contents as though Lena said something.

“Well, I went back home to California a while ago, looked through the house. Got you something.”

He holds out a slightly yellowed square and Lena takes it with a wary hand, but the second she flips it over her vision tunnels.

It's her. And Lex. A photo of the two of them taken a week before the outbreak, a week before he died.

Her brother's goofy grin stares up at her, one arm draped over Lena's shoulder, the other on his hip, not a care in the world, forever nineteen. A thirteen-year-old Lena brandishing a fencing trophy looks out from the frame with an equally-silly smile, her finger making a point as she mouths “number one!” to the person behind the lens—James, if she remembers correctly.

Then she remembers James is _right there_ and she swallows the bile rising in her throat, reaching her hand back across the tainted space between them.

He doesn't deserve the satisfaction. Nothing he could give her would ever make up for what he did.

“I'm good.”

“You sure?” James gives her a concerned look, a concerned look he has no right to be giving her, and she has to forcibly unclench her jaw to answer him.

“I said I'm good,” she says definitively, wiping the sweat off her forehead.

James looks down at the photograph a little sadly and frowns. “Okay. Well, I'll hold onto it for you. Now will you tell me what you're doing out here? I know you weren't just looking for dear old me.”

 _Dear old—the nerve!_ The rage that threatens to engulf her rolls in her gut but she closes her eyes for a moment and imagines she's talking to someone else. Unbidden, a vision of Kara leaps to the front of her mind and when she opens her mouth, that's what slips out.

“Kara.”

His head bobs with a knowing expression and James stands, crossing his arms.

Turning to close the door to the office, Lena clears her throat, morphing her expression into one of superiority.

“I've been on quite the adventure, big brother,” she says mockingly, the words coating her tongue in grief.

“I reckon it's got something to do with that girl.”

“It's got everything to do with that girl,” Lena admits, pulling out a chair and gesturing for James to sit. Now is not the time to put her personal issues in the spotlight, so she takes a deep breath, focusing on the here and now.

_Remember, you're doing this for Kara._

“She's immune.”

The words echo around the room and she sees the effect they have on James. His eyebrows raise first in disbelief, then in annoyance, like he knows she's messing with him.

But she isn't.

“I've seen it with my own eyes. She's breathed in enough spores to take down a dozen men,” she adds when he scoffs. “I wouldn't have believed it either, but I can show you.”

“Alright.” James sits down heavily, propping a dirty work boot up on the desk. “I'll bite. Why bring her here?”

And now comes the hard part. She knows it's for the best, knows that despite all their history James is the best man for the job, but she can't help but feel like she's selling Kara down the river to a man who would kick a puppy as soon as look at it.

“I was supposed to deliver her to the Fireflies. Way I figure, they're your boys. You finish the job, you collect the whole damn payment.”

James scoffs again, turning his head away. “I haven't seen a Firefly in years,” he starts, but Lena cuts him off before he can gather momentum.

“I'm not asking for much, James,” she says in a soft voice, the one that the people closest to her know is dangerous. Hopefully James knows it too, remembers from a decade ago, from before they split up and he left her in Boston. “I just want some simple gear, enough to send me on my way.”

There's a brief pause as James scratches the stubble on his chin, considering, but his response is as pathetic as she expected it to be.

“What makes you think I'd do this for you?”

“This isn't for me, James,” she says in a rough voice, dropping the act. “This is for _your_ damn cause.”

And fine, maybe she's letting her personal anger fuel her, but it's been years, and now that she's face-to-face with James again she feels herself losing control.

It puts her in a dangerous headspace, seeing him, and she's just enough over the edge to give in to it without Kara around.

“My cause is my family now.”

“Oh, _that's_ rich.”

“You ain't talking about a walk in the park here, Lena! You want some gear, sure. But I ain't taking that girl off your hands.”

James stands and pushes the desk away, walking to the wall.

“This is how you're gonna repay me, huh.”

The words are out there before she can stop them, bitter and quietly angry and full of everything her slap couldn't say.

“Repay you?”

“For all those goddamn years I took care of us.” Lena is on her feet now too, the old rage boiling in her bones, the one that was a constant pressure in her head until she met Kara.

“ _You_ took care of us? I—”

“You did _nothing_ , you weak, spineless sonofabitch.” Lena shoves him with a hand that shakes with anger. “You were the oldest, older than Lex. You were supposed to _do_ something, he trusted you to—all you did was get drunk.” She snarls this last part, hurling his failures back into his face.

“You have no idea what I went through when he died!” James roars, pushing back against her. “No idea, so don't tell me—”

He's cut off by a bang as Lena throws him into the wall, his back crashing into a locker as she bears down on him, her eyes feral.

“I bring you the cure for mankind and you wanna play the victim card? Fine, James, have it your way. But does your wife know who you _really_ are? Your tendency to drink too much, too often?” Her voice drops back into that deadly soft pitch and she sees, with quite a bit of satisfaction, the fear beginning to stretch over James's features, twisting his face into a terrified mask. “I thought not. And what if I told her about all those nights you spent _surviving_ with your best friend's thirteen-year-old sister? Your own so-called _adopted_ sister. I wonder what she'll think when I tell her how much of a family man you _really_ are.”

The fear gives way to anger and James lunges for her, one hand trying to latch onto Lena's shoulders unsuccessfully. “You wouldn't dare—You _survived_ because of me!”

“I survived in _spite_ of you,” Lena growls, and she relishes the look on James's face for one more second. “Playtime's over, James. Go talk to your wife.”

Just as she's about to slam to door, his walkie talkie crackles to life and they hear gunshots and yelling echoed through the small speaker.

“What the hell is that?”

Snapping into attention, a completely different man, James seizes his gun and mutters something into the radio.

“We're under attack. You still remember how to kill, right?”

Lena doesn't answer him, just makes sure the door smacks him on the way out.

* * *

It's absolute chaos, but thankfully not a clicker in sight when they emerge. Even as she fights her way through the warehouse, even as she lines up every shot and considers shooting James in the head and blaming a stray bullet, her mind is occupied by the only thing she has left.

_Kara._

The heavy guilt settles over her like a blanket—what if something happens and she dies, or Kara dies still thinking Lena can't stand her? She kicks herself for the last few weeks, reminds herself of her tendency to push people away, but it honestly pales in the face of a shootout.

Because even with Kara on her mind, something in Lena roars to life as she kills bandit after bandit, and that's exactly why she's pushing Kara away, isn't it?

Kara, the stupid blonde with her stupid body and stupid smile, who doesn't even know how to fucking swim, is not the kind of person who would want anything to do with _Lena._ She's too dark, too dirty and gritty and corrupting, like a poisonous fog that you can't escape.

Though Kara has proven to be immune to most poisonous fogs as of late.

_Kill now. Think about Kara later._

The other builders join her and James as they make their way to the bridge, but just as Lena is putting the blonde out of her mind, James's radio crackles to life, Andrea's voice delivering the news that make Lena's heart pick up pace.

“James, they're here! We're trapped, we—Kara, hide!”

And then it goes dead.

“Andrea? Andrea, goddammit!” James yells into the radio, then realizes the same thing Lena did. If they're trying to hide, yelling her name over the radio won't help. “We gotta get to the girls!”

“Right behind you,” Lena pants, trying her best not to get swept away and starting to fail. James and her, fighting through a crowd with bullets slicing the air around them. Then later at night when James was so drunk he could barely remember, he would knock on her door and push his way in if she tried to stop him, his hands reaching for her, those lips that were always disgustingly wet and tasted of alcohol and she could feel him through his pants and she knew what was coming...

“Lee, do your thing,” James instructs, and Lena doesn't even bother to correct him with her name because her axe is already cutting through the air and burying itself in the neck of the nearest bandit. The second one follows quickly after and a double shot to the head of another rewards her with a blissful silence, having eliminated the last of the bandits.

“Oh, god.”

Running for the sound of Kara's voice, Lena prays that she isn't too late, gasping in relief at the sight of Kara clambering over a broken window, Andrea and Kelly behind her.

Lena rushes forward so eagerly that when Kara hops down, she lands in her outstretched arms and stays there, clinging to her like a koala.

“I'm not exactly sure what I did,” the blonde says a little breathlessly, “but the hugging's really nice.”

It takes Lena an extra second to realize that she's wrapped her arms around Kara, that she's pulling her close like a cable is towing her away, and she relents just enough for Kara to pull back and beam at her with the smile she was cursing only a few minutes ago.

“I hate you,” is all Lena can say, then envelops her again, burying her nose in Kara's hair.

Kara chuckles, the noise vibrating into Lena's chest. “I hate you too,” she says, and it doesn't matter what the words are because they both know the unsaid words just below them.

“That was too damn close,” Andrea huffs, reaching for James. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I...” James turns in time to see Lena and Kara break apart, right before the blonde launches into her animated recounting of what happened, talking over Lena's attempts to calm her.

“...coming from every direction and then Kelly was like 'we gotta run!' So we dove over these tables and this _huge_ guy blasts in with a shotgun! Oh, man, and then this—”

“Hey, hey! Slow down. Are you hurt?” Lena has to shake Kara by the shoulders and peer up into her eyes to assure herself of Kara's presence, and though the pupils are blown out and she looks a little pale, the blonde is otherwise unhurt.

“I'm fine,” Kara says happily, continuing her story.

James pulls away from Andrea's hand in his, staring at the ground. Lena is right. He owes her so much more than she thinks, because she was the one who kept them alive all those years, all those years he...

“Goddammit,” he mutters under his breath, earning a confused look from Andrea, and he sighs, long and slow, before looking his wife in the eyes. “I need to talk to you.

* * *

“Absolutely not!”

“Andrea, I—”

“You tell him to go find somebody else!”

“I can't have this hanging over my head, honey.”

From her perch on a roadblock Lena has a front row seat to the domestic James and his wife are currently having out in the middle of the compound. She can see that they truly love each other, that much is clear from how they act around each other, but she can also see the desperate concern on Andrea's face—she doesn't want to be left alone, potentially forever.

It's exactly how Lena feels right now, though she keeps trying to tell herself she's still doing the right thing.

Despite every nerve ending in her body telling her otherwise, she still thinks sending Kara with James is better than staying with her. Lena has no idea where the Fireflies are, has no idea if Kara would be able to kill her if she got bitten, knows for a _fact_ she'd never be able to kill Kara, and that means she's a weakness. She's a chink in Lena's otherwise flawless armor, and sure, it scares her. Terrifies her. So much so that she hasn't gone over to break up the fight, to tell James she's changed her mind and Kara is staying with her.

“That have something to do with me?”

Always one for impeccably horrible timing, Kara creeps up on Lena and nods towards the spat, one hand resting on Lena's shoulder.

Shrugging it off before she can blurt out her plan, Lena glances at the blonde.

“We'll talk about it later,” she says in a low voice, turning back to the argument.

“Did he tell you where the lab is?” Kara persists.

Another sting to her pride, that Kara still thinks Lena will be the one to take her to the Fireflies. If not James, someone else, but it can't be Lena.

“We'll talk about it _later_ ,” she repeats, throwing in a quick glare for good measure before fixing her stare on James with a determination that she knows will annoy Kara.

“Later,” Kara echoes, an annoyed look in her eyes when she senses Lena's off-kilter mood. “Sure.” She storms away before Lena can think of something to say and Lena lets her go, letting out a frustrated groan as James and Andrea approach.

“Anything happens to him and it's on you,” Andrea growls once she's in earshot, no trace of the friendly woman from earlier on her face. She storms off towards the generator building and Lena almost laughs at that.

Two women in one minute. Good job, Luthor.

James stands off a few feet, his hands shoved in his pockets. “I'll take that girl of yours to the Fireflies,” he says, but Lena isn't listening.

Who knows what the right thing to do is? Maybe Kara will be better off staying here with Andrea and Lena should go back to Boston. If everyone she's ever loved is destined to meet an early grave, god help her if she won't speed up Kara's date with death.

But maybe she's making a horrible mistake. Kara's older than she was and James is married, but if anything happens to Kara she'll never forgive herself. Not that she would know, but she would torture herself with the uncertainty until the day she died.

The second her eyes meet James's she _knows_ she's making a horrible mistake and her mind scrambles to rewind, to move back the pieces on the chessboard.

“James, I've changed my mind. You don't have to—”

“James!” The voice over the radio interrupts her. “That girl just stole one of our horses and rode off!”

The confused look on James's face is enough to make her want to slap him again, but Lena is already running for the stables.

“Which way?” she calls out to the man leading two horses towards her, hauling herself up and galloping off in the direction he points.

_Dammit. She must have figured it out. She must have known something was off, she's not stupid._

_You've lost her._

The thought only makes her more frantic and she slaps her horse's flank a little harder than necessary. Trust Kara to read her like an open book, to see the plan Lena hadn't even fully thought out and reacted emotionally.

_I wasn't thinking._

_I wasn't going to leave you with him. Not really._

_I'm just so afraid for you._

_For us._

Hooves pound the dirt as Lena bends over the neck of the stallion, urging him forward. She welcomes every jar, every jolt that will make her sore because she knows she deserves much worse. James is hot on her heels, shouting encouragement and stupid things like “We'll find her” and “Does she usually pull stunts like this?” and it only adds to her anxiety.

James's presence is like a hot ember that's landed on her skin. It burns, it's uncomfortable, but she can bear it if she has to.

She thought she would be able to stand it and she had, back in the compound. Even when they were alone in the office she was able to hold it together, but with Kara missing in action she can feel herself coming apart at the seams. She can feel the anger inside her starting to build up higher than ever before and wonders who it is, exactly, that she's angry at.

She can't be mad at her parents for getting blown up, it wasn't their fault. Nor Lex for dying on her; he died saving her life so she only has herself to blame. The virus isn't even a conscious being, isn't even worth hating because it doesn't care whether or not she's accepted it.

The only one worth being angry at is James.

James, who took what he wanted when he had no right, who besides a few smugglers and bandits who are no longer alive, is the only person still breathing that has personally wronged her.

The thought turns her stomach and she almost vomits mid-gallop but she clenches her gut and grits her teeth so hard that the pain distracts her enough that she can turn her thoughts to Kara, her sharp eyes scanning the dirt for hoof prints.

_Please let her be okay, I'll start believing in god and I'll never push her away again as long as she's alive, god, please—_

And for all her years of skepticism she praises whatever higher power _does_ exist, because there's a trail leading to a broken-down corral. She vaults her horse over a sign that reads “Hidden Pines Corral” and jumps off her horse, leaving James to tie them up.

“Careful!” he calls after her, but Lena ignores him, pushing open the front door and calling for the one person that could make her feel better.

“Kara!”

“Kara?”

“ _Kara!_ ”

There's a moment of blind panic that tints her field of view with blood until Kara's voice dispels it, a casual “I'm up here!” that makes Lena elicit a few choice curses.

She finds Kara curled up in a bay window, her feet on a pillow and a paperback book open on her knees. The sight eases her stomach but not her mind as she slowly walks over, stopping a few feet away.

“Is this really all they had to worry about?” Kara holds the book out to her like it's a poisonous snake. “Boys? Movies? Deciding which shirt goes with which skirt?” She tosses it aside, deliberately at Lena, and the brunette doesn't move away as the book bounces off her shoulder.

“Get up,” Lena commands, all the anxiety coming out as anger. “We're going.”

Stubborn as always, stubborn in a way that makes Lena simultaneously hate her and love her, Kara crosses her arms and glares out the window.

“And if I say no?”

With an angry huff, Lena flexes her hands in her pockets so Kara won't see how riled up she is. “Do you even realize what your life means?”

“Sure I do—”

“You don't! Running off like that, putting yourself at risk?” _And damn near giving me a heart attack?_

“I didn't run off, you found me,” Kara says with a surly glance at Lena's feet.

The smart comment makes her frustration bubble over and she glares at Kara until she looks up. “What is your problem? You can't just disappear, when two people promise to protect each other there are _rules._ You should have talked to me, you should have—”

“I'm not him, Lena.”

That stops her in her tracks.

“What?”

“Andrea told me about Lex and I—”

“Don't—”

“I've lost people too, Lena!”

“You have _no idea_ what loss is.”

At that, Kara bristles, her eyes glittering with anger as she stands up and faces the other woman. “Everyone I have cared for has either died, or left me. Everyone—fucking—except for you!” She punctuates this realization with a harsh shove in Lena's direction and the brunette stumbles back, her own anger rising to meet Kara's.

“Why don't you ever think before you say something?!”

“Don't tell me that I would be safer with someone else, because I would only be more scared!”

The admission finally silences Lena, who can't do much but glare at Kara, willing her to stop talking. She's putting words to things Lena hasn't let herself think about for years and it scares her enough that she'll do anything to get the blonde to stop.

“I'm sorry about your brother,” Kara steam rolls on, setting her jaw. “I know he was the only one there for you, I know it was the both of you and James and that was all you had and you lost James, then Veronica. But I have lost people too and now James is here, and you can stop treating me like some kid that needs protecting! Yeah, sure, maybe I look a little like your brother but I'm not dead! I'm right here, can't you fucking _see?_ ” Her chest is heaving with every sentence and her annoyance at Lena's ever-shifting attitude towards her comes out in vicious words that she regrets the second she says them.

“I only ran because you wouldn't talk to me, because you thought you were protecting me like you couldn't protect him—”

“Kara,” Lena says in a dangerous voice, her eyes bright, anger covering up the tremor in her throat. “You should be _very_ careful what you say next.”

“I can't be careful! Not around you, not when it's you! Don't you see? You're so stupid, god, Lena!”

Throwing her hands up in frustration, Lena takes a step closer, wanting to be goaded into an argument. “What do you want from me!?”

“Admit that you were trying to get rid of me the whole time! That this whole thing for you was just an act!”

“You have _no_ _idea_ what you're talking about,” Lena says with disgust. “No idea. I did talk to James about taking you to the Fireflies but I changed my mind, only _you_ didn't stick around long enough to find that out!”

“Maybe if you didn't dismiss me so much, I'd fucking listen to you!”

“Oh, yeah? Since when has that been your M.O.? You're just happy-go-lucky Kara, I'm off looking at pine trees and fireflies and meanwhile you're the key to saving the _goddamn human race!_ ”

“If I'm so special why are you so happy to get rid of me?”

“Jesus _Christ,_ Kara.” Lena can't stop the furious laugh that bubbles through her lips. “I _changed my mind!_ If you'd just _listen_ to me for one second, you would see that!”

“See what? We're supposed to be a team and you just want to leave me! Like everyone else!”

“No, that's not...” Lena falters, searching for the right thing to say. “You have to understand, I don't—I've never...” She drops off, losing her momentum. “I know you're not Lex,” she whispers, meeting Kara's eyes. “I wouldn't leave you. I swear.”

“Lena...”

Finally relenting, Kara unfolds herself and sighs.

“I just thought you were pushing me away, Lee, and I got scared and...”

But Lena can't hear her anymore because somehow the mix of the nickname and the knowledge that James is just downstairs and talking about her brother and the relief at seeing Kara overwhelms her and she pivots away from Kara as her vision blurs, vomiting up her lunch with her hands on her knees.

Kara's eyes widen in alarm and she launches herself across the space separating them, instantly forgetting their argument.

“Lena?! What's wrong?! What happened?” She's searching for an injury, most likely a blow to the head, her hands tracing Lena's shoulders, when the brunette pushes her away.

“Dammit,” she says in a muffled voice, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “ _Dammit_.”

“Are you okay?” Kara asks a little uncertainly, holding out a water bottle. It's obvious that she isn't but there's no reason for Lena to have been sick. “Did you eat something bad?” the blonde guesses desperately, not sure what to do.

“No, I—”

“Lena? Did you find her?”

James's voice brings on another round, but since her stomach is empty she just dry heaves as Kara watches, her face pinched in concern, one hand sliding Lena's pack off her shoulder.

“Lena,” she starts, fear creeping into her voice. “I don't know what's going on, but I think you need help.”

“No! Kara, tell him to wait outside,” Lena chokes out, catching her breath. “Please.”

The strangeness of the request and the shock of seeing Lena incapacitated spurs Kara into action and she goes to relay the message, thanking James for coming after her.

“He says not to take too long but he'll wait outside.” Guiding Lena to the window sill because the brunette's legs don't seem to be working properly, she sits down next to her, worry forming a knot in her throat. “Now, will you tell me what's wrong? You're scaring me.”

Squinting through watery eyes, Lena can see that Kara really is afraid and it just intensifies her own emotions until they're almost unbearable. She's never told anyone, never even brought it up or put words to what happened to her until she saw James today.

“I would never leave you with James. I don't know what I was thinking,” she starts, breathing through her nose. “He...is not who you think he is. Kara, he...”

And then, to her absolute horror, she bursts into sobs.

Horrible, gut-wrenching sobs that suck the air out of her lungs and scrape her throat raw as they crawl out, every breath more shallow than the last.

Kara, who up until now wasn't sure what to do, assumes the role of caretaker with ease. She pulls at Lena until the brunette is curled up in her lap and strokes her hair, murmuring loving words until she can coax Lena out from her collarbones, hot tears splashing into the dips as the other woman's body shakes.

“Lena,” she says in a tone that sounds very peculiar coming out of Kara's mouth, “What did he do to you?”

The shame that has weighed so heavily on her mind and shackled her to her past is throttling her and she can't speak, so she just looks into Kara's eyes, desperate green meeting intense blue.

“After Lex—died,” she starts, faltering at every word, “he looked after me.” Her voice is barely above a whisper and her fingers tighten around Kara's as though it's the last strap on a reserve chute. “I was thirteen. He was a few years older than Lex.”

Something crosses Kara's face so quickly that Lena doesn't register it, but the next words out of her mouth sound forced.

“You didn't want to see him.”

Lena shakes her head wordlessly, burying her face against Kara's neck and nuzzling the warm skin when the emotions overcome her.

“I was thirteen,” she whispers again, her body shaking violently.

Only it's not her, but Kara. Kara, whose hands have left Lena's and are balling up at her sides, Kara, who slams her fist down on the wooden frame of the window so hard that Lena winces with sympathetic pain just as she places the strange tone of her voice.

It's rage.

Kara is feeling the same rage as Lena has for the last ten years. It only took her so long to realize because she doesn't equate rage with Kara, has never seen her truly angry until this moment.

It's an ugly rage that almost scares Lena because she wonders what it looks like on her own face. Kara looks like she might rip out someone's throat with her teeth and somehow Lena's brain makes the connection between Kara's rage and what she's been trying to say and she's absolutely floored because Kara is angry _for her._

“Lena,” Kara says slowly, enunciating every syllable. “I am going to kill him.” Her brows are drawn tightly together, jaw clenching and unclenching as a vein throbs in her neck, and Lena clutches on as she feels Kara's anger wash over the both of them like a tidal wave.

“Do you want me to kill him?” she asks bluntly, unable to meet Lena's eyes. She's disgusted with herself, shocked at the violence of the emotions she can feel swirling inside of her, but it doesn't matter. Her mind is completely blank except for two thoughts, which are Lena's pain and the man standing outside that caused it, and as she looks down into Lena's eyes she knows that it will only take one word and she'll murder a man in cold blood, morals be damned.

It's tempting to shoot him on sight as they walk to the door but she holds herself back, staring at the back of Lena's head as she opens the door.

“We should get moving,” James says with an eye on the horizon as they file out of the house. He's untied their horses and is holding a gun in ready position but relaxes when he sees they're unhurt. “You took your sweet time.”

Kara shoves past him hard enough to make him stumble, heading for her horse. It's odd that Lena, who stayed silent for so long, seems to be the only one out of them that can speak, but Kara knows if she opens her mouth something bad will happen, and as much as she might want to, Lena told her not to do anything rash.

“Hang on, Kara. Give the reins back to him, we'll take this one.”

When Lena catches the look on James's face she tries not to dwell on it. A mixture of fear, confusion, but most of all relief is plain on his features, and she swallows down a barb about his cowardice.

“What are you doing?” James looks between them, trying to read into their silent glances.

Hopping into the saddle, Lena refuses to meet his eyes. “Your wife kinda scares me. Don't want her coming after me,” she says smoothly, hoisting Kara up behind her. “Where's this lab?”

Something close to amusement writes itself across James's face but he still looks like he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. “University of Eastern Colorado, science building that looks like a mirror. You can't miss it. You sure about this? There's a place for you here.”

Finally, Kara's voice returns and she gives James the coldest look she can muster.

“No, thanks. I don't think you'd survive our stay.”

It's just like Kara to say something like that, something that makes her want to laugh then cry then kiss her, but instead of waiting for James to answer she tugs on the reins and they leave his terrified recognition behind, Kara's arms wrapping around her with a steady strength that draws out her stress like a magnet.

“Just you and me,” Kara murmurs in her ear as the wind whips their hair back.

Lena nods in agreement, feeling safer with every jolt that presses Kara against her back.

“Just you and me.”

* * *

Another week of hard riding passes and even Lena finally admits they need a break. The horse they borrowed is sturdy but looking more and more ragged every day, and Kara alternates between hunting for food and sleeping, her head resting on Lena's shoulder.

“This should be fine for a night,” Lena comments, nodding at what used to be a small subletting apartment as she ties the horse up. Callus, Kara said his name was, and she clucks her tongue at him to stay.

“You think there's an actual bed in there?”

“Not one you'd want to lie down on, I promise you.” Leading the way, Lena shoulders open the door and they check the apartment quickly but there's no signs of life. Her muscles protest as they climb a flight of stairs and leads the way into a sparsely furnished room. “Are you as tired as I am?”

What she sees when she turns around makes her do a double-take, because Kara's exhaustion has evaporated and the blonde is standing in the doorway, her pack discarded and her shirt draped on top.

“No, I don't think I am,” she says cheekily, slowly advancing on Lena and relishing the hungry look in her eyes. The hooded green gaze lands somewhere around her hips and she slinks down her waistband a few inches until Lena's eyes are resting on bare skin, red tongue darting out to wet her lips.

“Are you?”

“Am I what?” Lena says distractedly, her eyelids fluttering.

“Tired,” Kara grins, crossing the last few feet. “Answer me,” she says in a more commanding tone when Lena stays silent. “Tell me what you want,p r Lena.”

Lena's response starts shy, her hands finding the back of Kara's neck and leaning forward, but when a gasp of “more” escapes her lips, Kara pushes until her back thuds against the wall.

“Do you trust me?” Kara breathes into her neck, her lips grazing the skin under Lena's earlobe, and the brunette hesitates.

“What?”

But she heard her perfectly and when she looks into those blue eyes, pupils so dilated there's barely any blue, Lena nods, unable to say the actual words because they're buried away in her box of “words never to string together in a sentence.”

_I trust you._

She gives an anxious nod but it's all Kara needs. Strong hands gauntlet her thighs and then she's perched on the strong frame of Kara's arms, the bizarre sensation of leaning down to kiss Kara only overridden by the sensation _of kissing Kara._

“What if someone comes in?”

“The only person coming will be you,” Kara says, chasing the words into her throat with a stroke of her tongue.

Lena gasps at that and bears down, her legs squeezing together around Kara's body. Their breaths are hushed with anticipation and as Kara slowly sets her down, her lithe body stretching out to cover Lena's, she closes her eyes and loses herself in the feel of Kara inside her.

* * *

Later, they lie in the moonlight, Kara tracing patterns along Lena's side while the brunette pretends to be asleep.

“I had a girlfriend, once,” the blonde whispers, almost startling Lena into giving herself away but she holds herself perfectly still, measuring her breathing.

“Well, not really a girlfriend. But we—we could've been,” Kara chokes out, propping herself up on an elbow and kissing Lena's shoulder. “Her name was Lucy. We were friends back at that school I told you about, we spent every waking second together and I was absolutely obsessed with her.”

As a secretive person herself, Lena latches onto this bit of information. She thought she knew Kara, but it becomes clear that the woman's past is completely shrouded in mist, a fog that is labeled “Fireflies” and “Boston?”

“I kissed her right before we got bit,” Kara says in a muffled voice, her lips brushing Lena's skin. “We got bit at the same time, me and Lucy. Decided to just wait it out, be all poetic and lose our minds together.”

Lena hasn't breathed in at least thirty seconds but she holds it in, afraid of the next words to come out of Kara's mouth.

“Obviously, that didn't happen,” she says, a hint of bitterness entering her voice, but the sadness behind it is more powerful and Lena squeezes her eyes shut.

Because if Lucy turned and Kara didn't, there's really only one ending to this story.

“I had to,” Kara whimpers, burying her face in Lena's neck. A hot wetness spreads and drips across her strained tendons, holding her neck up until she turns and catches Kara in a painfully tight hug. Kara falls against her, shaking with grief and a bone-deep sadness, and Lena clings to her even tighter.

Once her body stops its shaking, Kara sniffles at Lena, red eyes looking up at her with a shy, vulnerable expression.

“I knew you weren't sleeping.”

The strangled laugh that this pulls from Lena puts the barest hint of a smile back on Kara's face and she strokes the blonde hair like Lex used to stroke hers, lifting her head from the floor to kiss her everywhere she can reach. Her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose is showered with Lena's kisses and she closes her eyes, melting into each press of lips like an ice cube in direct sunlight.

“And how did you know, smartass?”

“Because I know everything,” Kara says smartly, pressing their foreheads together.

This solace, this peace she's found in Lena is the most shocking part of it all. Not the sex, not Lena screaming her name, not even the moments when they look at each other and Kara flushes because Lena is undressing her with her eyes.

It's the sensation of being understood, of being accepted for all the horrible things she's done and still being appreciated. Lena's seen her kill and cry and come and she doesn't bat an eyelash, doesn't regard her with the same look every one else gave her when she returned to the dorms without Lucy.

She doesn't know Lena feels the exact same way, only how she feels, and god help her if the older woman would ever admit her feelings in plain fucking english.

Tomorrow when they reach the university, things are going to change. Lena is going to slip on her business mask and argue with whatever or whoever is waiting for them until she can stay and watch Kara fuel the future of science. And then what? And then they have to fight their way back home, exhausted and without a purpose and wait for the scientists to crank out a vaccine.

“I know everything,” she repeats in a quieter voice, looking at Lena like she hung the moon, “And I know I love you.”


	7. Chapter 7

“I'm not seeing anything that looks like a mirror,” Kara huffs as they ride through the campus.

Urging the horse onward, Lena squints. “Me neither, but there's still a lot of ground to cover.”

They lapse into a strained silence that Kara stands for as long as she can before breaking, her arms tightening around Lena's stomach.

“What do we do once we find it?”

“We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“Seems like we're coming to it now, though.”

Turning Callus down a side street, Lena frowns. She's been thinking the same thing, wondering what happens once the path she's outlined in her mind finally drops off. She wants to reassure the younger woman, say something about how she knows exactly how to make a vaccine and they'll be on their way back in a few hours, but instead of lying she tries for humor.

“As long as you don't _jump off the bridge_ , we'll be fine.”

That draws a snort from the blonde and she presses her chin into Lena's shoulder. “Jeez. You jump off a bridge once and they never let you forget it.”

“Not my fault you did something stupid.”

“It was necessary,” Kara retorts, the beginnings of a smile starting to form.

“Necessary,” Lena concedes. “And very stupid.”

“So you admit I was right?”

“I admit that you weren't wrong.”

“I'll take what I can get,” Kara laughs, snuggling closer. “You know, I wanted to be a skydiver when I was a kid. I read a bunch of books on it and got obsessed,” she muses, wrinkling her nose when Lena's hair tickles her skin. “What about you?”

“Jumping out of an airplane with a parachute is a lot different than throwing yourself off a _bridge_ into a _river_ when, oh right, _you can't swim.”_ Lena's sure Kara can hear her eyes rolling but she keeps her tone light as she reads a road sign. “I don't know. I wanted to be a chemist for a while, but when I was really young I wanted to be a singer.”

“No way.”

“I'm serious,” Lena defends herself, slowing down their horse so she can hear Kara's disbelief. “My brother taught me to play guitar and I wrote a few songs. I even played a gig or two back in Boston before I met Veronica.” Her face darkens and her fingers grip the reins, knuckles whitening.

Trying to keep Lena's mind off the past, Kara perks up, her grin lighting up her eyes. “Sing something!”

“Um, no.”

“Come on, I won't laugh!”

“I don't think so,” Lena says definitively.

“Aww, babe. Please?” Kara drops her voice into a low whine and adds the nickname that always turns Lena into mush, a shaking, sweating, eager to please mess underneath her.

Lena's back relaxes slightly but searching for a science building on the back of a galloping horse is nothing like having sex, and she doesn't feel inclined to give in on this.

“No,” she says with a finality that makes Kara drop the subject for now.

They tie Callus up and start to walk through the more destroyed part of the campus, clambering over burned-out cars and ruined pavement as the near their destination.

“Do you like it when I call you babe?” Kara pipes up, a playful edge to her tone.

With a sigh that heaves her shoulders, Lena turns to regard the blonde. Her smile is teasing but her eyes are full of fragile hope and maybe even a hint of fear—fear of rejection, fear of being rebuffed, fear that Lena wants to dispel, so she does.

“I don't hate it,” Lena says, returning the smile with a kiss.

“Good.” Kara looks suddenly nervous. “Because I was thinking.”

“That's never a good sign,” Lena razzes, but she folds her arms and waits.

Kara clearly isn't really listening because she passes up the opportunity to make a witty retort. “I was thinking maybe you could stay with me after.”

“After...”

“After all this,” she says with a vague wave of her hand. “Live with me. Hunt down rabbits, go on patrol, have sex whenever we want. You know.”

Shaking the earwax out of her ears Lena unfolds her arms and clears her throat, her eyes seeing Kara in a new light.

“Kara, are you trying to make a kept woman out of me?”

“Well...maybe?”

Lena is spared the need for an answer when Kara gasps, distracted by a faded symbol on a brick wall.

“Look! Fireflies! We must be getting close, though I haven't seen anyone.”

“Yeah,” Lena narrows her eyes and slows down, suspicion clearing away her thoughts of marriage and some sort of ceremony. “I wonder why...”

The sound of clicking reaches them at the same time that she registers footsteps, and then both of them have banished the thought of any future together beyond the present.

“Clickers this close to their camp?” Kara hisses, one hand reaching for Lena, the other reaching for her gun.

Just as they catch sight of the creature, its head disappears in a spray of blood and they both search for the source of the gunshot. A hundred yards away is a man with a bandanna covering his face and a rifle in his hands. He registers them at the same moment that Lena's brain is cranking out the answer to her question, and her eyes widen as his gun comes up.

“Kara—”

The bullet hits so close to her feet she wonders if he missed on purpose, and then they're running for their lives.

“Shit. Go, go!” Lena yanks at Kara's arm, barely giving her time to get on her feet before she's shoving the blonde in front of her, another bullet clipping the wall to her left. They dart into the nearest building, scrapes from the pavement stinging their skin as Lena tries to figure out what's going on.

“I don't think those are Fireflies out there,” Kara says in a hushed voice, and Lena waves at her to be quiet.

“No, they aren't. Which means the Fireflies haven't been here for god knows how long,” she mutters to herself. James wouldn't have given them wrong information, so what happened?

“We need to move,” Kara urges, heading for a stairwell, and Lena runs after her as the shouts of more men become clearer. They crash through room after abandoned room, their surroundings barely registering as they put as much space between them and the hunters as they can until they come to a long hallway on the second floor and slip into a side room, leaving a few doors along the way open for good measure.

“What now?” Kara whispers, but Lena is too busy staring at the corpse tied to an office chair to respond. There's a journal on the desk in front of it and what used to be a tape recorder, and she lifts up a dirty piece of paper, her fingers smudging the corners.

They're in the science building and from the looks of an armband on the corpse, it used to be under Firefly control. The roof is missing and the courtyard is overgrown, Kara listens at the door as Lena reads in the sunlight that comes through the window, her eyes sprinting across the page.

“Fuck.” The paper crumples in her hand and she turns to Kara, eyes glinting with fury. “Fuck.”

“What?”

“They aren't here. They're in Salt Lake City. Saint Mary's Hospital.”

Trying to keep up, Kara frowns. “Do you know where that is?”

“I know the city,” Lena growls, her jaw working.

“Is it far?”

“It isn't close.”

“So we go there, then.”

God damn it all. She's managed to get Kara all the way out to this godforsaken town with its stupid fucking science building, only to find out they're in the wrong city—the wrong state, in fact—and now they're being hunted.

It's almost as if the world is against her plan, as though it doesn't want her to succeed, and she smothers a scream of frustration at the trusting look in Kara's eyes. _It's not that easy!_ She wants to yell, wants to grab Kara by the shoulders and shake until she understands. _I kept you alive because this was supposed to be it! This was supposed to be it, one final job, and what a fucking joke that turned out to be!_

But even as she thinks it, in her mind the person she's shaking morphs into Veronica, then Lex.

 _It wasn't supposed to be like this!_ she yells at herself. _None of this was supposed to happen!_

“Lee, we have to go.”

 _Shut up! Shut up, shut up shut up!_ She's howling at him now, everything is blurring together in anger and fear and the realization that this whole damn thing was in vain. She wonders if she's finally lost it, if she'll just walk out of this room and let them pump her body full of lead and put an end to this infuriatingly painful existence, but something holds her back.

When her anger clears, it isn't Lex, but Kara, who's standing in front of her, eyes wide with fear, her post by the door abandoned.

“Lena, we have to go. Can you hear me?”

Still a little dizzy, Lena nods, trying to focus on Kara's face.

“Listen, it'll be alright. We'll go to Salt Lake City. How far is it?”

They're speaking in hushed whispers and Lena begins to scan the room for an exit, her survival instinct kicking in again.

“I told you, it's not close. Even with a horse—”

She trails off and squints through the window on Kara's right. Something nags at her, something she thought she saw...

Kara follows her line of sight and squints at what appears to be the beam of a flashlight. “Fireflies?”

“No, they're all—get down!”

She grabs Kara's sleeve and hits the ground just as a bullet punches through the glass. When they catch their breath, Kara is looking less like a scared woman and more like an angry one.

“Who the fuck are these guys, then?” She asks angrily.

“Doesn't matter. We're getting out of here,” Lena decides, slinking back to the door. If they can lose the hunters in this building, they might have a chance of running for it. She checks that Kara is following her before ducking out into the hallway.

Her arms are up and she's pulling the trigger even as her brain registers the man barreling towards them, the recoil of the gun finally waking her up. Another takes his place and when the chamber clicks with a horrible empty sound, she abandons the gun, trusting Kara to pick it up, and launches herself at the enemy.

The man dodges her first swing but by the time he sees her second, the ax is in her hand and burying itself in her neck. They fall to the ground, Lena pushing the blade deeper into his flesh until his horrible choking sounds are replaced with a steady trickle of blood.

“More of them over there,” Kara warns her with a nod, Lena's pistol in her hands. She swaps their guns and starts to reload Lena's as the brunette picks off the men one by one, her anger finding an outlet in the fighting. They slowly make their way back to the staircase, Lena's hold on the ax getting looser as blood starts to make her fingers slip on the handle.

"Hang on, you're going to fast," Kara calls softly to her, rushed footsteps catching up behind her. "Lena! Slow down, I—"

Holding her gun by her side, Lena reaches for the handle to the stairway and her fingers have just latched on when the door explodes outward, hitting her smack dab in the face.

“Lena!”

Blood explodes from her nose in a hot rush and pain erupts behind her eyes in a firework display. She can hear Kara's voice as she stumbles backward, her back connecting painfully with the railing. She manages to save herself from flipping over it with a desperate hand, then hands are on her chest, her neck, slowly squeezing the life out of her.

“You asshole!” the man screams into her face, spit flying from his mouth, and she finds herself disgusted by it as she tries to push him away. He's got her trapped against the railing and she wonders if she can somehow flip him over instead, but he clearly has the upper hand.

Her sight is starting to fade and she knows she only has a few seconds left to fight back, panic taking over years of training. God knows where Kara is but the blood from her newly-broken nose drips into her mouth and the coppery taste wakes her up.

Drawing back a fist, she twists herself away from the man then throws her entire body into a punch that slams home with a satisfying crunch.

Unfortunately for her, he weighs twice as much and his hands are still around her neck when he crashes through the railing, yanking her along with him. There's a moment of weightlessness where she feels like she's floating, and a second later it's whipped away as her back slams into the ground and a piercing pain she's never felt before stabs her gut.

_Fuck fuck fuck!_

Her breath whooshes out and red-hot pain bursts behind her eyelids, the aches and bruises in the rest of her body completely drowned out by the fire in her stomach. Sharp consciousness makes her head spin, the lights hurting her eyes, and she tries reflexively to sit up but only manages to raise herself an inch before the stabbing in her gut increases tenfold. A yell claws itself through her throat and out from behind her clenched teeth and her hands go to her stomach, uncomprehending of what they find there.

Something hard and slippery is sticking out of her shirt and she tries to connect what she sees with what she feels.

A piece of rebar slick with her blood is bursting out of her like a misplaced, gruesome prop, and her head falls back. Squeezing her eyes shut against the pain, she takes a deep breath, the feeling of metal inside her flesh sickening her.

_If you fall on a metal bar in the middle of the woods and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound?_

“Oh, shit.” Kara's voice barely reaches her along with a clattering ruckus. All the noises sound like they're traveling underwater and she tries to wave Kara away, to yell at her to run before the rest of them kill her, but all that comes out is a strangled yell, the pain escaping any way it can. She can hear banging somewhere to her left and her hand twitches at her side, clenching and unclenching in a silent scream.

She's torn between holding still and ripping the bar out of her body, neither of which is plausible. She feels like a bug pinned to a board and even as her mind shuts down she convulses, her body desperate to right the wrong that's been done to it.

A lifetime later blonde hair pervades her field of view and there is Kara, blurry and bright around the edges, her blue eyes more like streetlights from a distance.

“Oh, man.” Kara looks from Lena to the door, panic flashing through every inch of her body. They're about to break through, she knows it, and they're going to die. “What do you want me to do?” She turns to Lena, her voice cracking with terror.

“Move,” Lena coughs, a mouthful of blood coming up with the command, earning another gasp from Kara.

Kara looms over her, her face twisting. “What?!”

“Move!”

The pain that rips through her focuses her gaze as she shoves Kara aside, her right hand coming up. Somehow, she takes down the first hunter and as the second gets closer she can hear that Kara has finally gotten her gun out. She's not sure whose bullet kills the second man but even as he falls her sight flickers and she falls back.

_Breathe through your nose. You've been in worse scrapes before._

She repeats this to herself even though it's not true.

_You've never been fucking impaled before. Nice going, Lena._

Along with the pain is anger at dying from something so stupid. Who could've known there was a fucking metal death trap waiting for her? And below that, disbelief.

Disbelief because she hasn't felt like she was about to die, not this close to it, since she was a kid and Lex was carrying her through the street, her leg broken. Sure, there had been some close scrapes but—

The thought is ripped away from her by another wave of pain. She can feel the heat leaving her body as her heart pumps it out through the hole in her stomach, her shirt is soaked with it, and she closes her eyes, fury keeping her conscious.

“Lena? Oh god.” Kara is back, panting with terror.

“I'm gonna need you to pull,” Lena growls, the pain in her gut stealing her breath.

“You sure?”

"Not at all. Do it."

Something in her face must harden because Kara's expression changes to one of determination, her hand sliding under Lena's shoulder. The other grasps Lena's free hand, fingers so tight she can't feel them.

Kara counts it off as Lena tries to steel herself for what's about to happen, but even she isn't strong enough to endure something like this. She lets out a scream that anyone in a two-mile radius must hear and right as she feels the jagged metal tip pulling free from her flesh, she blacks out, her knees slamming into the ground, Kara catching her with a terrified expression.

* * *

“ _Hello?”_

_Back in her old house, Lena turns in a circle. There's the familiar worn-out couch and the TV set with the rabbit ears that she sometimes has to hold up so Lex can watch football games, hours and hours of little men running across a large field and never scoring goals. There's the stack of puzzles that her parents bought her and the clock tells her that they'll be coming home any second._

_Everything seems off for some reason and she blinks, trying to put her finger on it._

“ _Lex?”_

_Blond hair in the corner of her eye and a hand resting against the door frame._

“ _Hey, Lee.”_

“ _Lex, I—”_

_She stops abruptly, not sure what she was about to say, not sure why she was saying it because the person standing in front of her is definitely not Lex. Short hair turns to long waves and green eyes bleed into blue and she tries to believe what her eyes are telling her._

“ _Kara?”_

“ _...Yes?”_

_Blinking owlishly, Lena just stands in the middle of her living room, staring. “What are you doing here?”_

“ _I live here, genius.”_

_That's not right. Kara doesn't live here, Kara's never even been here._

“ _No, you—”_

_Footsteps behind her, it must be Lex—but he never met Kara—and then she's being shoved by his strong hands, teasing and sometimes not too careful of her smaller size._

“ _Lena!!”_

_Kara is looking at her with undisguised panic and fear and she blinks again, the puzzle pieces slowly sliding into place._

“ _Right, you live here with me—”_

“ _Lena,” Kara gasps, getting larger and larger with every passing second. She realizes too late that the blonde is walking towards her and tries to take a step back, raising her hand._

_It comes away red and only then does she realize it wasn't Lex's hands that pushed her forward but something else. Her mind looks uncomprehendingly at the ugly metal rebar that sticks out from her stomach, her body waiting for the moment it registers the pain._

_It comes a second later and her mouth opens in a silent scream, Kara reaching to catch her before she hits the ground._

“ _Lena?!”_

_She gasps as Kara presses her hands to her torso, the movement tingeing her vision with blood._

“ _Move your hands!” Kara's voice is loud and desperate, yanking back her hands as though Lena stabbed her._

_Which is funny, in a way, because Lena is the one who got stabbed._

“ _You're going to be fine,” the blonde says with a shaky voice. “Just—”_

_Her hands grasp the rebar and it's all Lena can do not to hit her. Partially because she knows she's trying to help, partially because she's in too much pain to move._

“ _I know, I know it hurts, but you're going to be okay. Stay with me, Lena,” she pleads, even as her breaths grow shorter and shorter, her twitching legs growing still. With a single, determined motion she pulls and rebar tears itself free of Lena's flesh, and the scream that erupts from her strips her throat raw._

“ _I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Lena, eyes open! Stay awake," Kara instructs, pressing her hands to the hole in Lena's stomach. She saw all the way to the floor through it and the sight of it turned her veins to ice and she hopes that her hands are enough to hold the tide of blood back even as seh sees how hopeless it is._

“ _You're gonna be fine. You'll be fine and we'll get a house together,” Kara blabbers, eyes searching the room for something to patch her up with. “We'll get a house with a bunch of sheep and dogs and—and I'll do the dishes! I hate doing the dishes but if you stay awake I'll do the dishes, how does that sound?”_

_Lena doesn't respond, her eyes tightly shut against the pain, teeth grinding down to dust, but the words paint a picture that almost distracts her from the searing pain in her torso._

“ _And we can have a kid, or a few, or none if that's what you want. And I'll plant potatoes and corn and more potatoes because there are a hundred different ways to eat potatoes. I'll even cook for you, if you like potatoes.”_

_She tries to answer that she does like potatoes, loves them in fact, but her voice fails her and she's sinking away into darkness, Kara's voice fading away._

“ _Maybe we can have chickens and goats. I make a mean omelette. I make a mean anything, and you have to stay awake to find out that I'm lying and I'm a horrible cook because who the fuck else am I going to cook for? And you and I can get old and fat together, just please hold on. Please, Lena. I love you, I love you I love you I love...”_

* * *

“Lena! Lena, wake up! Please, we have to go!”

The darkness from her eyes slowly clears and she's aware of Kara kneeling in front of her, strong arms holding her up. Blood is still flowing from her wound and at the sight of it her stomach turns and her breakfast comes up, a mix of half-digested beans and blood splattering the floor next to them.

Every single nerve in her body is on fire, all of them screaming nonsensical words that bounce around her brain and make her want to hit herself with a hammer.

“Oh god,” Kara worries, helping Lena to her feet. “That's not good.”

_No kidding._

In any other situation Lena might have laughed at the understatement of the century but it's all she can do to keep herself on her feet. Hunched over like a five-hundred-year-old crone, it takes all her concentration to keep Kara in her sight as the blonde runs ahead to check the area as they start to move.

It's excruciatingly slow and excruciatingly painful and she stumbles a couple of times, growling each time as Kara comes near. Every movement sends the hole in her stomach into a new world of pain and it's all she can do to force herself to walk, staggering after every few steps.

“Just get to the horse.”

If they can't make it back to Callus, they're as good as dead. Lena's as good as dead anyways, but she might as well make her last few minutes useful. So even though every step takes her breath away and each stumble sends enough pain through her to make her sight flicker, she forces herself to keep going because she can still aim her gun and she'll get Kara on that horse and out of here if it kills her.

Which it seems like it's going to.

“Lena? How we doing?” Kara calls back, clearing a window frame. Her eyes track the steady stream of blood to the floor and she bites her lip, frustrated at her own useless knowledge.

“Never better,” Lena wheezes. Her limbs are weighing her down and she wonders if cutting off an arm will speed her up, then laughs at the thought, the harsh sound tasting of blood and sweat.

 _I really am losing it_.

Kara doesn't respond to her weak attempt at sarcasm, just deepens her frown. “Can you handle the window?”

“Yeah,” she grunts unconvincingly, watching her blood splash the tiles under her feet. Raising a leg over the frame is so painful that she welcomes the momentary darkness, feeling herself slumping over and letting her body hit the ground on the other side with a groan. They're in what used to be a lab classroom, broken beakers and dusty black-topped tables obstructing their view of the man that has just banged through the door.

Shotgun pellets splinter the corner of the table next to Lena's face and she ducks back, fighting the urge to vomit at the sudden sharp movement. Pain explodes behind her eyes and she slams them shut, breathing through her nose to keep the nausea at bay.

_Shit._

She's trying to clear her mind and aim around the corner but every time the hunter sends another shower of pellets and she has to duck again. Kara is somewhere to her left and hovering over her, blond hair whipping across her face each time she moves.

 _Run_ , Lena thinks, wishing Kara could read her mind. She doesn't appear to have become suddenly telepathic because Kara does the exact opposite, sticking her head up and earning another spray of ammo in their direction.

_Leave me. Run._

Their thoughts have apparently never been more out of sync because Kara has already pulled them both behind a table and is checking her gun by the time she feels Lena's eyes on her.

“I'm gonna flank this asshole,” the blonde hisses, as though Lena just asked her for a fighting strategy.

 _No,_ Lena wants to protest, _it's too dangerous,_ but all that comes out is a pained groan as Kara pulls away from her.

As Kara walks to her death thinking that it's her job to protect Lena.

Kara could die _right now_ and all Lena will have done is sit idly by and wait for it to happen, just like she did when her brother died.

With an enraged growl, she peers around the edge of the table and looks down the sights of her gun, the man in the crosshairs going in and out of focus. A sound to her left of Kara trying to get the man's attention only stokes the anger inside of her and she squints, trying to get off a good shot.

 _Don't use yourself as bait, you idiot,_ she thinks foggily, her arm trembling.

“Hey,” she calls, as loud as she can, but it's a muted gasp.“Hey!”

The effort nearly takes it out of her but it does the trick, alerting the man to another target.

He turns, his eyebrows knitting at the sight of Lena, keeled over, a gun in her hand. He takes in the blood surrounding her and his eyes widen, and as he swings his gun around to aim at the pathetic sitting duck she's become, she pulls the trigger.

He falls to the floor with a hole between his eyes and her gun dips, her arm falling uselessly to the ground as Kara hurries to her side. There's a graze along her jaw and Lena raises a bloody hand to her face, leaving a red streak that clashes with blue eyes and blonde hair.

“Ouch,” she mutters, blinking up at Kara.

A hysterical laugh bubbles out of Kara's lips and she catches Lena's hand, guiding it down. “Yeah. Ouch.” Her eyes drop to the ground and she blanches. “We have to get you out of here.”

“ M' okay,” she lies even as her entire body throbs, the pain staining her vision red and deafening her senses.

“Shut up. If you love me you'll keep going.”

Lena is most definitely not okay but Kara's voice starts her heart like a defibrillator. She can't even feel her feet anymore but she drags herself upward with everything she has, soldiering on with clumsy, robotic movements. Halfway to the door her foot catches on a loose brick and she goes down again, her hand slipping in the pool of blood that forms wherever she goes.

“Get up.” Something in Kara's voice has changed. The fear is completely gone, has made way for a determination that doesn't allow for emotion.

If she can just get Lena to the door. If she can get her on the horse. If she can ride to the next city.

There are a lot of 'ifs', but Kara isn't ready to think too hard about any of them.

The sight of Lena vomiting into a pool of her own blood makes her own gut churn but she reaches for her with a medical detachment, her hands gloved in red as she pulls the brunette up, her mouth a thin line.

“Get up, Lena. You're not going to die here,” she growls, fear biting at the edges of her carefully constructed composure. “I won't let you die here.”

“I'm okay,” Lena huffs, her eyes slipping shut. With a monumental effort she pries them open again, focusing her bleary look on Kara's drawn expression. “I'm okay.”

“If you're okay then get up!” Kara says angrily, wiping blood off of Lena's face. Her own shirt is stained with blood and the fact that it's Lena's is too much to comprehend so she doesn't, she pushes it aside until she has the luxury of panicking and keeps pressing on.

Lena forces herself to stumble after Kara, her eyes slipping closed whenever she stops paying attention. It's getting harder and harder to tell her feet to move and she tries not to think about the implications of this.

They seem to be doing an awful lot of _not thinking_.

She can hear her heart beating and sees the blood falling through her fingers, and she wonders with a morbid fascination how much blood a person has in them.

_Adults have approximately 1.5 gallons of blood in their body._

Whatever corner of her mind dredged that up is the only thing keeping her going. She's following Kara more by sound than sight, footsteps and the occasional lie of “Almost there” telling her which direction to lurch in as she struggles to stay on her feet.

As they round the corner she loses her balance and starts to fall, catching herself on the edge of a table with enough force to bruise.

She doesn't even feel it.

Her mind has gone completely numb, not even the thought of her brother to comfort her as she keels over. Sliding sideways on the table and leaving a trail of blood, the jarring of her shoulder hitting the ground is muted through layers and layers of pain and blood loss.

“Lena?”

“...you,” she gasps, trying to point upwards.

“What?”

“Behind you!” What was supposed to be a yell comes out as a muffled groan as the action of drawing her gun drains her. She tries to line up a shot but the world spins and she loses track of up and down, her finger pulling the trigger even as she loses her grip on consciousness, unfeeling hands scrabbling at the tabletop.

The bullet goes wide, ricochets off the wall, and she falls sideways. The next few minutes are a dark blur of snapshots, like photos taken on a day without enough light. Kara is yelling at her, screaming in her face, then gunshots ring out and she blinks in an attempt to clear her vision.

A metallic _thwack_ sends Kara to the ground next to her and she tries to raise her arm but nothing happens.

Four rapid flashes, the sound of the gun in Kara's hands reaching her a few seconds later.

A muttered curse, the thud of a body.

And through it all, her own blood draining the warmth from her veins like a relentless vampire as it leaves her body, her efforts to staunch the bleeding growing weaker and weaker.

Then something is pulling at her arm and dragging her forward. Her feet go out from under her every other step and when she blinks the world looks the same with her eyes closed as with her eyes open.

Eventually she gives up and keeps them closed, vaguely aware of Kara at her side. Maybe, if they had time to bind up the wound or wait for it to clot, but there wasn't time and now she's pulled on it so much that it may never heal.

That's how it feels to her, anyway, with blood spilling over her hands and Kara's voice breaking through her mind every few seconds.

“If you die, I will kill you, you hear me?”

“I swear to god, if I get us out of here you are _so_ singing for me.”

“I love you. Please don't die, because that would be the worst break up ever.”

"Not to kick you while you're down, but that was really stupid of you. Why didn't you wait?"

“Getting fucking impaled doesn't get you out of answering my question, genius.”

She opens her mouth to laugh but nothing comes out, just a gasp for air. If only Kara would stop moving for a second and let her catch her breath, she could sing for her. When she tries to tell her, to promise Kara the world, promise anything within her quickly dwindling power, blood spots her lips and Kara wipes it away with a frantic hand.

“Don't try to talk,” she says with a harsh tone and gentle hands. “Save your energy.”

Then the horse looms in front of them and the smell of unwashed animal washes over her and Kara's hands are on her torso.

“Can you get on?”

Lena tries to tell her that she doesn't need to worry, she's fine, and besides nothing really hurts anymore, but Kara doesn't wait for an answer. She just heaves Lena up and with a mix of pulling and pushing, gets her into the saddle. Her arms fence in the brunette as she sways, slumping against the horse's mane, then they're galloping away from the ruined town, Lena's blood trailing behind them.

* * *

An hour later snow has started to fall and Kara is shivering, her numb fingers gripping the reins. Lena sways in and out of the waking world but her wound has finally stopped bleeding, or that's what she mumbled to Kara anyway.

The cold and the rest seem to be doing Lena some good but the blue tinge to her lips is concerning her. She keeps asking Lena random questions as loudly as she dares, about Boston and football and even about Lex, desperate to keep the heart-stopping quiet responses coming. She doesn't want to bother Lena with any serious questions because the only serious question she has for the woman is “Are you going to die?”

With a frown, Kara tries to remember all that she can about deep injuries and hypothermia, which isn't much.

Lena's the one who knows all that. Lena's the one who's had practice and not just read survival tips in a book.

Lena would have gotten them out of there much quicker instead of waiting for Kara to bleed out.

Shaking the thought away, Kara reaches for her pack—maybe there's an extra hat or something she can put on Lena to keep her warm until they find shelter.

She's just twisted to undo the zipper when she feels a jerk, the weight of Lena listing to one side.

“Lena?”

No response.

“Lena?!”

Lena is sliding away from her and out of the saddle, head hitting her chest. She hits the ground without a sound, the _crack_ of her head against the pavement jarring Kara's skull sympathetically.

“Shit.” Jumping down, Kara drops to her knees. Callus, feeling the weight disappear off his back, slows from his crawl of a pace to a standstill and watches the scene with a worried toss of his head.

“ _Lena!”_

She's flat on her back, one arm reaching for the horse, but she doesn't respond.

“Lena, can you hear me?” Worry sucks the remaining energy from Kara's body as she frets over Lena. The brunette's face is pale and frozen, and if not for the occasional cloud of breath misting from her mouth, Kara would think she was already dead.

“No! You have to get up,” Kara whimpers, tears starting to slide down her face. “Get up, Lena! Please, get up.” She tugs on Lena's arm but gets no response, and feels herself falling apart as a hole opens in her chest. “I don't know what to do!”

She looks at Lena's face, those green eyes behind closed lids that she could recognize in a crowd and that face that she would know by touch even in the pitch dark, and her heart seizes in her chest.

“Please don't leave me,” she chokes, shaking the unresponsive shoulders as her tears flow freely. Her hands beat against Lena's chest, the bottom dropping out of her stomach.

“Please don't leave me alone.”


	8. Chapter 8

WINTER

* * *

Tying the rabbit to Callus's saddle, Kara trudges onward, blowing on her hands to keep them warm. The snow soaked through her converse ages ago but she needs to catch something else to eat. Feeding the horse isn't hard, she just leaves him to graze and keeps a watchful eye out for danger. Feeding herself is another matter entirely.

She ran out of tinned food a week ago and with her archery skills, hunting for one takes at least an hour. The fear of being discovered keeps her from using her gun, as does the scarcity of ammo.

A splash of brown catches her eye and she creeps closer, the sight of a deer setting her stomach rumbling. That could feed her for days and she could use the skin to make a blanket, something to keep her warm.

Lena could probably make a full pair of trousers but Lena isn't here to help her anymore.

Swallowing the bitterness that coats the back of her throat, she crouches and aims her arrow carefully. If she fucks this up, she'll be down a deer and an arrow, both of which she can't afford to lose right now.

With a slow exhale she releases the arrow and it wings between the trees, burying itself deep in the wild animal. A sound like a horse braying comes from its mouth and it jumps, darting away.

“Fuck.” Strapping the bow to her back, she starts to give chase. The trail of blood is easy to follow but she's cold and tired and it slows her down, dragging her feet through the mud. By the time she catches up to it she's in a hollowed-out town, an arrow fitted and drawn as she slips from building to building.

“Not creepy at all,” she mutters to herself, wishing Lena was with her. Abandoned buildings were always less scary when she had someone with her, and were downright homey when that someone was Lena.

The sight of the deer lying on its side improves her mood and she edges toward it, her stomach urging her out of the safety of the building's shadow.

A rustle to her left has her bow up and ready before the man appears, a rifle slung over one arm and his hands up in surrender. His gaunt face and tired eyes echo Kara's but his face is open and almost kind.

She doesn't lower her bow, thinking of the group of men she ran into a few days back. They seemed kind, too, but none of them stayed that way for long. And now they were all dead.

“Hello,” he says in a southern twang. “We just want to talk.” As he speaks, a second man emerges from behind a tree. He looks much less welcoming, a permanent scowl etched into his face.

“Any sudden moves and I'll put one right between your eyes,” she growls, stepping forward to show she means business. “Ditto for buddy boy over there.”

_How did you know about the ambush?_

_I've been on both sides._

“Name's David. This here's my friend James.”

“I tend not to like men called James,” Kara says frostily, narrowing her eyes as she aims at a spot between David's eyebrows.

“Well there's a lot of us not to like, it's a common name,” angry man—James—says with a scowl, moving closer to his friend.

“What do you want?”

David steps closer. “Maybe we could, ah, trade you for some of that meat here. You must need something.”

“What would you have that I would need?” The promise of a trade loosens her grip slightly but her bow doesn't drop, her eyes trained on James. David is clearly the man in charge but he reminds her of an attack dog and she wonders how many more are near, ready to throw themselves upon her and her kill.

“Weapons, ammo, clothes.”

“Medicine. Do you have any antibiotics?”

Looking a little taken aback at her request, he nods slowly. “We do. Back at the camp. You're welcome to follow us—”

“How stupid do you think I am?” Kara growls, her arm starting to ache. “Send your lap dog. He doesn't come back, or someone else does, I'll—”

“You'll put one right between my eyes,” David says with the hint of a smile. He turns to James and nods. “Two bottles of penicillin and a syringe,” he instructs, his posture betraying nothing but ease.

“Seriously?”

“Go on.”

When James disappears, she levels her gaze. “I'll take that rifle,” she says, pressing her advantage. When she has it in her hands and pointed at David, her fear eases somewhat. He leads her to an empty building and gets a fire going under the barrel of her newly acquired rifle, offering her a piece of venison once it's cooked.

“You know, you really shouldn't be out here all on your own,” he starts, warming his hands over the crackling flames.

She glares at him, purposefully checking the chamber. “I don't like company.”

“I understand. It must be hard for you to trust a couple of strangers.”

“Who said I trust you?”

He shrugs this off and takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully. “Whoever's hurt, you clearly care about them. I'm sure it's gonna be just fine.”

“We'll see,” she muses, staring into the fire. A sound nearby alerts her to the horde of clickers that has surrounded them and they both jerk to their feet.

“I think we best get moving, little lady.” David reaches for the rifle but she points it at his head.

“You have your pistol.”

Something in his face tells her he's trying to make a decision, then his lips purse. “You're right. Let's go.”

As they dart through the old town, she tries not to think of how familiar it feels. How Lena used to do the same thing with her, yelling instructions and using her own body as an obstacle between Kara and the impending horde, muzzle flashing with each shot that slams home into an infected body.

“Hey kid, you alright?” he calls back to her, trying to lead them to safety. At one point she thinks she's done for then a single shot blows away the infected him front of her and she scrambles back.

“Keep your eyes open for anything we can use,” is all he says, pulling himself up a ladder. They reach the next platform and Kara wrinkles her nose at the sight of three bodies, all partially eaten away.

“Looks like someone already fought those things and lost,” she comments, rifling the pockets for ammo. There was a time, before Lena, that she would have lost her lunch at the idea of such a thing.

That's how the world is now. There are only two categories that matter, before Lena and after Lena.

She forces her thoughts away from the third category, _'without Lena'._

“Ah, Lord. I've been lookin' for these boys,” David says forlornly. “Damn. You keep that rifle, you're a better shot than I am.”

Holding back a retort that she was going to keep the gun with or without his permission, she loads another cartridge. “Look for an exit,” she instructs, starting along a wall.

Ten minutes of searching turns up nothing and they regroup, David's face more pinched than before.

“What do you think we should do?” Kara asks, automatically slipping into the role she took with Lena.

“Nothing else to do but hold our ground,” he says grimly, pushing a metal barricade in front of the largest hole in the wall. “Lord. You ready, kid?”

The ensuing firefight is bloody and full of adrenaline. Twice, Kara thinks she'll run out of ammo or they'll both die from a near miss, but with an armful of luck and a lot of desperate running, she doesn't. They trade shots, each saving each other's hide on more than one occasion, and when the last clicker explodes into flames from a well-aimed Molotov cocktail, she spares him a grin.

“You're not bad, kid.” He returns the grin and gives her a slap on the shoulder. “Let's head on back. Check on that buck of ours. You're a pretty good fighter,” he adds when they duck under the roof, the deer untouched.

“We got lucky.”

“No, no no. No such thing as luck,” David says firmly. “I believe everything happens for a reason.”

Raising a skeptical eyebrow, Kara stares into the fire. “Sure,” she huffs, wondering where James is with the medicine.

“I do. I can prove it to you. Take us meeting. Not a stroke of luck, destiny. I can prove it to you.”

More bored than intrigued, Kara folds her arms, tilting her head to indicate he should continue.

“See, a few weeks back I sent a group of men to a nearby town. Gather food, supplies, that sort of thing. Only a few of them made it back.” He pauses to wipe at his face, his eyes boring into hers. “They said that the others had been slaughtered by a crazy woman.”

Kara's blood turns to ice but she doesn't let it show, her face a study in blank as she returns his glare.

“And get this, she's traveling with a girl,” he says slowly, pointing the knife in his hand at Kara with a casualness that doesn't fool either of them. “A blonde girl with blue eyes, just like yours.”

Kara is on her feet before she knows what's happening, gun pointed at David's head.

“Now, don't get upset,” he soothes, still sitting by the fire. “I sent men back to collect the bodies, you know. And they were attacked too, some violent man looking for a lady named 'Lena'. Pretty name, isn't it? He wouldn't take no for an answer, sent a few of my men back without a limb.”

This knowledge makes bile rise in her throat. Some unknown man hunting her, god knows who it could be—a hunter seeking vengeance from their killing his friends? One of Sam's group that somehow figured out what happened and is now trying to find them? A random survivor that found their tracks through the last city? Her feet are frozen to the ground but her finger on the trigger is hot and alive, twitching and ready to blow his head off. She can't fight off an entire village on her own but maybe she can kill him and make a run for it.

Those thoughts are erased by David's next comment. Without looking up, he exhales an annoyed breath. “James, lower the gun.”

“No way.” The voice makes her whirl around and there is the angry man, his pistol pointed at her. Unsure of who to aim at, the rifle points at the ground somewhere between the two of them.

“Lower the gun,” David says again, his tone brokering no room for argument.

With a furious expression, James's arm drops to his side and David smiles, the same unsettling one that doesn't reach his eyes. “Now give her the medicine.”

“I'm not letting her go!”

“Don't make me repeat myself,” David says in a dangerous voice, and the other man glowers at him unhappily.

James tosses the medicine to the ground at Kara's feet, his expression dark and unreadable. “The others won't be happy about this.”

“That's not your concern.”

Fumbling blindly for the pouch, Kara shoves it in her pocket. She nudges James out of the way, his stance aggressive and defiant.

“You won't survive long out there,” David calls after her, slowly rising to his feet. “I can protect you from this man that's hunting you.” His eyes are shrouded in mystery and she pauses, uncertain.

“This man, did you get his name?”

Throwing James a look that says _“keep your mouth shut,”_ David shrugs. “No, I don't think we did,” he lies, giving her a feral grin. “You sure you don't want my help kid?”

Shooting him one last glare, she steps into the cold.

“No thanks.”

* * *

She sprints the entire way back to her horse, leaping on him breathlessly and urging him back to her hideout. An abandoned house, it's cellar the only room still protected from the elements, she leaves Callus in the garage and trips down the steps in her worry.

_Some violent man looking for a lady named 'Lena'._

_Wouldn't take no for an answer._

“Lena?”

Her response is the same as it's been for days. A weak exhale from the injured woman, her eyes cracking open to look emptily at the ceiling through a slit.

“I only managed to get a little bit of food,” Kara murmurs, dropping to her knees, “but I did get this.” Opening the pouch she heaves a sigh of relief to see that it does, in fact, contain medicine. It didn't even occur to her until now that it could have been a trick. The tiny print on the bottle says 'Penicillin' and lists some percentages but they mean nothing to her.

Setting them down carefully, she slowly pulls back the thick blanket covering Lena. The movement earns her a whimper of pain and Lena shivers in the cold but Kara keeps going, being as gentle as possible.

It's devastating to see Lena like this. Lena is invincible, Lena doesn't get hurt. She ducks from bullets and shoots men in the face without a blink. She hates getting her socks wet.

“Move your arm,” she says softly, doing it herself when Lena's only response is a groan. She lifts up the edge of Lena's jacket, then her shirt, and hisses in a breath at the sight.

The uneven, puckered stitches that she had to sew in Lena's flesh are straining against the infected skin around them. What used to be pale, scarred skin is inflamed, an angry purple and red that's oozing pus in several places. Her fingers had been slippery with blood, shaking with fear as she fed the needle in and out of Lena's skin, the other woman barely conscious enough to register the pain and not in control of herself enough to stop her screams when she did. It had been slow, painful work and every day when she checked on them to see the healing process it just looked worse and worse.

“No,” Lena mutters, and Kara wipes her brow with a torn sleeve. The sweat on her forehead combined with her constant shivering is what convinced Kara she had to do something.

That and the absolutely horrific-looking wound in her gut.

Her eyes water with sympathetic tears as Lena moans and she presses a kiss to her lips. They feel dry and feverish and make her reach for the vial all the faster, stabbing the syringe into the bottle and drawing out the precious medicine.

“Here we go,” she whispers to herself, then sticks the needle into Lena's side.

A pained cry immediately makes her wish she hadn't but she presses the plunger down as Lena's face tightens, her eyes squeezed shut against the needle.

“All done, that's it.” Quickly withdrawing the needle, Kara replaces the layers of clothing and draws up the blanket, testing Lena's forehead with a hand. She can't tell if it's hotter than usual because her own hands are almost numb with the cold but all she can do is hope it's enough.

“You're gonna make it.”

She goes to the window for a handful of snow and rubs it across Lena's lips with a gentle hand. Hopefully, it'll help bring down her fever and the melted snow will be the only thing Lena's had to drink, a fact that is constantly worrying her. How can Lena recover if she can't eat or drink anything?

Kara keeps it up for a few minutes before her own exhaustion catches up with her and she gives in, drained from the days of her own depressing monologue, from days of hunting for two and never having enough to eat, from always wondering if Lena will still be alive when she returns.

Lying down next to Lena, she punches her backpack into some sort of pillow and gets as close as she can without brushing the injury. Lena is shivering, grimacing at the cold, but she turns her head toward Kara's voice and the blonde lets a small butterfly of hope open in her chest.

* * *

The faint sound of men's voices wakes Kara up in the morning and she pulls back the window covering to see David, James, and another man tramping through the yard by the house.

“Fuck.” She hadn't even thought of them tracking her. She'd been so worried about getting the medicine to Lena it never even crossed her mind, and now she was paying for it.

“I'm gonna lead them away from here,” she whispers, giving her one last kiss. “I'll come back for you.

It isn't until she's hoisting herself into Callus's saddle that she realizes the lips she kissed were cold.

* * *

Riding slowly, she edges around the edge of the property. The three men she saw before are clustered together, talking, and just as she thinks she's free a hand grabs at her pack and tries to pull her off the horse. Her knife is out and in the man's neck before she loses her grip on the reins, the life draining from his eyes as he falls to the ground.

The commotion draws the attention of the other men and as they all turn to her, she tries to formulate a plan.”

“Shoot her! What are you waiting for?!”

“But David said—”

“Fuck David. Shoot her now!”

Any half-cocked plan evaporates and she yanks on the reins, screaming for Callus to run.

Bullets strafe the air around her. None of them hit her and she thinks back to her conversation about luck with grim satisfaction.

 _No such thing as luck_.

Someone yells to shoot the horse and it makes her push him harder, faster. They gallop through the town, men spilling out from every direction.

She's not going to make it. There's too many of them, but if she can just get far enough away from Lena, maybe they won't go back.

Maybe by the time they do, Lena will be up and gone.

This line of thinking picks her up and spins her around and is abruptly cut off by a shot that seems louder than the others. Callus screams underneath her, rearing up and almost throwing her from the saddle. His jerking legs slip in the snow and then they plummet off a cliff.

It's a short and thankless drop and Kara rolls with the impact, lying on her back as she tries to assess the damage and catch her breath. Nothing seems to be broken, but Callus is undeniably dead. Running for the building nearest her, she whispers some kind of prayer, a weak thanks for everything he did for her.

Crouching underneath a windowsill, she can hear every word the men yell out to each other.

“I thought David said he wanted her alive?”

“He doesn't get to make that call. James told me it's the girl from the University.”

“Shit. Really?”

“Straight from the horse's mouth. How many of our guys were killed there?”

“Screw David then. I ain't taking a chance with this.”

“Let's kill her and be done with it. I'm freezing my ass off over here.”

In the end, it's not the numbers but her own senses that let her down. She kills plenty of them, enough to make Lena proud, but just when she thinks she's free and forcing a window open, an arm comes at her from behind and locks itself around her neck.

Her knife flicks out, useless, and she struggles against her attacker but he's stronger than her by far.

“Relax,” a familiar voice grunts in her ear, and she only struggles harder. “I'm keeping you alive here.”

 _Asshole,_ she thinks, her head pounding from the lack of oxygen. He pulls her down and tightens his grip, black stars swirling across her field of view.

Of its own accord, her body relaxes, the knife falling from her hand and clattering against the tiled floor. The last thing she sees is the window, frosted with ice, before she slips into darkness.

* * *

When she wakes, her head is pounding. The floor underneath her is cold and hard, and the sound of a knife hitting wood pulls her up.

Rubbing her temples, she sees James, David's lackey, standing at a table with a cleaver raised in one hand. It takes her a second to register the chain-link fence between them, and another to recognize the thing he's carving up.

A human hand hits the ground as he raises his cleaver again, joining a pile of three other human body parts.

“Jesus,” she breaths, falling back and trying not to vomit. She's unsuccessful and her throat burns as she retches, her hands on her knees.

He turns at the sound, spitting at her before tossing down the knife with a scowl and storming from the room.

The second he's gone, she's tugging at the fence. The metal bars to the right make up some kind of door and remind her of dog kennels she's seen in other places. Pacing like the caged animal she is, she yanks on the fence, growling with frustration until David walks in.

“How you feeling?” he drawls, walking over to the door.

“Super,” she spits, stepping back.

He slides a tray under the door and regards her with a patient look. “I know you're hungry. You've been out for quite some time.”

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” she retorts. At her feet is a bowl of stew and she eyes it with disgust. “What is that?”

“It's deer.”

“With some human helping on the side?”

“No. Just deer, I promise.”

“For whatever that's worth, you monster,” Kara grumbles, but her stomach is too empty to resist and she falls to her knees, not even bothered by the indignity of eating with her hands, in a cage, in front of this man. If she's too weak or hungry to escape, Lena's as good as dead.

She's going to have to kill him.

Not that it'll be hard. Cannibals don't rank high on her list of people to consider in her mission.

“You're a little quick to judge, considering how many men your Lena killed.”

“They didn't give us a choice.”

“And you think we have a choice, is that it? You kill to survive, same as us.”

“So now what? You going to chop me up into tiny little pieces?”

David shakes his head with a chuckle. “I'd rather not. Instead, why don't you tell me your name?”

They glare at each other, frozen in a tableau of hatred until Kara shoves the platter back at him.

“Queen Firefly,” she snipes, her eyes sending sparks in his direction. Guilt stabs her gut at the fact that she hasn't given a single thought to Alex since this whole thing started, but she pushes it away for another time.

Laughing quietly, David raises himself to match her standing position. “A name would help in convincing the others,” he says mildly.

“Convince them of what?”

“That you can come around. You have heart. You're loyal, you're special,” he says softly, and she recognizes the desire in his eyes.

It almost makes her sick when he rests his hand on hers through the bars but she leans into it, slowly bringing her hand up to his chest.

“Oh,” she breathes quietly, holding his gaze.

A second later she cranes her neck and bites down on his fingers, hard, twisting until they snap, then she's fumbling for the keys at his belt. With a bellow to challenge a lion, he grabs her wrist and pulls her toward him, slamming her against the metal bars. She hangs on, stubborn, until the metal gashes her cheek and she falls back, one hand pressed to her face.

“You stupid little girl,” he growls, clasping his hand to his chest. “You are making it very hard to keep you alive. What am I supposed to tell the others now?”

“Kara,” she gasps, wiping the blood from her face.

“What?”

“Tell them that Kara is the girl,” she starts softly, the anger inside her building with every word, “the little girl that _broke your fucking finger._ ” The last words are spat out through the bars of the cage, fury burning in her eyes.

James considers that, his own eyes gleaming with hatred. “What was it you said earlier? That we'd hack you into tiny pieces?” He waits for it to sink in then delivers his threat.

“See you in the morning, Kara.”

* * *

Lena jerks awake with a gasp, her tired body creaking into motion.

Something is wrong, she can feel it. She's reminded of the time Veronica said it would be a good idea to cliff dive and she hit the water wrong, blacking out and waking up on the shore with a lungful of water and the Asian woman pounding on her chest. It's hard to breathe and her entire body feels heavier than usual, and when she tries to sit up her torso screams in rebellion and it all comes rushing back with dizzying clarity.

“Kara?”

Her voice is dry and dusty and when she coughs to clear it, pain screams in her side. Rolling herself off the mattress and tossing the blanket aside, she starts to scan the room the same way she's done for over a decade but when she tries to stand her legs buckle and she hits the floor, her knees connecting solidly with the stone ground. Breathing through her nose, she presses a hand to the wound in her side and pulls herself up with the help of a nearby table, a simple action that steals her breath.

“Kara?” she calls again, trying to figure out where she is. The whispered words of the last days come to her in bits and pieces, something about medicine and coming back and leading someone away.

Whispers of Kara's life and endless stories repeated again and again as the blonde tried to keep her awake, a hand gripping hers under a rough blanket.

“Kara?!” she calls, louder, more panicked, grabbing her pack as she heads for the only set of stairs in the room. Each motion brings a new wave of pain but her body is slowly warming up and she forces it to keep moving.

Once upstairs she surveys the house and listens for the sound, any sound of Kara's presence, stopping often to lean over and catch her breath. Her body is out of practice, out of shape, and sore, and she tries to think back to how long she was out.

It's a muddled blank, with Kara's words interspersed throughout.

“Where the hell are you?”

A few minutes of searching make it clear she's the only one in the house and she sets out, shouting Kara's name as she walks. It's impractical and dangerous but she's holding on to the hope that Kara is nearby and will come back before any clickers hear her.

In the end, it's not the clickers she should be worried about but hunters. Two of them start to shoot at her before she even clears the front yard and she has to duck behind some crates to pick them off, the pain in her side lessening as her adrenaline finally starts to flow. She hunts them down, one by one, her blood moving faster and faster.

Vaulting over a pile of wood, she's just landed when someone grabs her and yanks her off her feet. The chokehold he's trying to get her into is weak but so is she, and she fights against him with half of her usual strength.

“Finish her off,” the man snarls in her ear and another man advances, knife in hand. It gets closer and closer and right as it tears her jacket, she kicks out with all her strength, her boot connecting neatly with his groin.

He crashes to the ground, howling and clutching his balls and she uses the distraction to shove away the man behind her. If there are hunters here, Kara must be in trouble or she would've seen her by now. The thought fuels her and she throws the man into the wall, watching with satisfaction as he crumples to the ground.

The one she kicked is still whimpering and she kicks at his face, then grabs him under the arms, ignoring the pull of her stitches.

“You're coming with me.”

Dragging them into a house, she ties one to a chair, one to the radiator, and drops the last one on the ground, giving herself a moment to compose herself.

_Kara is out there somewhere. She saved your life and now she needs help, and you're going to do whatever it takes to get to her._

“ _Whatever it takes.” That's what Veronica used to say to me back when we started smuggling together. She slept her way through the barricades, the insanity of it all._

_Whatever it takes._

Taking one last breath and instructing herself to ignore the pain, she starts in on the first one.

Her fists pound into him relentlessly and he's unconscious in minutes, blood streaming from several places on his face before she has to stop, her hand going to the wound in her side. She regards him with a calm, bored look, then snaps his neck.

With an annoyed grunt of pain, she makes her way over to the chair and grabs a knife along the way.

“Now,” she says gruffly, sitting heavily on a crate to hide her pain. “The girl. Is she alive?”

This man isn't nearly as smart as he looks, and he looks like an idiot. “What girl?” he bumbles, shaking his head. “I don't know no girl.”

Lena rests her elbows on her knees, then in one swift motion brings the knife up and buries it in his leg, just above the knee. He screams in her face, his body bending in on itself to protect him from the pain, and she watches without a hint of sympathy.

“Focus, right here.” She slaps his cheek lightly and brings her face closer until she can see the stains on his teeth. “Right here, or I'll pop your goddamn knee off. The girl,” she demands again, heedless to his whimpers.

“She's alive,” the man blubbers, strings of spit flying from his mouth. “She's David's newest pet. He and the guy hunting you—fuck! Fucking—”

David's newest pet. Something in those words burns away everything but one thought.

_Newest pet._

What kind of man would keep a girl as a pet?

 _A man like James,_ she thinks viciously, then puts more weight on the knife.

“What do you mean, the guy hunting me?”

“Just some crazy guy, they brought him to the town, I don't know! I don't know, please, I can't—”

“Where?” she asks over his screams, merciless and vengeful, Michael with his flaming sword. “Where! Tell me right now you piece of shit!”

“In the town! In the town,” he says with a strangled noise, straining against his bonds. “Please!”

She rips the knife out of his leg and shoves the handle in his mouth, almost enjoying the look of terror this inspires. “You're gonna mark it on the map, and it better be the same exact spot your buddy points to.”

The shaky dot of blood marks a town only a few miles away and she studies it, memorizing the location.

“You can verify it, go ask him. I ain't lying!” the man shouts, shaking in his chair as Lena slowly stands. She passes by his pathetic fear and the words _“David's newest pet”_ flash through her mind again.

Before she realizes it, she's choking the life out of him, her arm unyielding to his sputtered breaths. She's staring down the last man as his companion dies in her arms, his eyes wide with fear, and the thought of Kara in the hands of someone like James nearly fells her.

Instead of breaking down she breaks the man's neck and his body falls back, heavy in death.

“Fuck you, lady!” the last man rants as she approaches him, eyes glazed with fear as she reaches down to pick up a hefty piece of pipe. “He told you what you wanted! I ain't telling you shit!”

_Whatever it takes._

“That's alright,” Lena says slowly, not recognizing the person she's become. “I believe him.”

As she raises the pipe, she notes with disgust that he's pissed his pants right before she bashes his skull in.

* * *

“Wakey wakey.”

Rough hands are seizing Kara, pulling her up and away from the ground, and she's instantly awake, fighting back against them. Her arms are pinned behind her back and she thrashes, heaving with pain when a fist connects with her exposed stomach.

“I warned you,” David growls from somewhere next to her but she can't respond because she's being slammed onto the butchering table, the wind knocked out of her, and James is helping to hold her down. The cleaver in his hand glints as he raises it and she yells the last desperate thing that comes to mind.

“I'm infected! I'm infected!”

His eyebrows meet, then spring apart. “Really.”

“So are you,” she pants, ceasing her struggling. “And so are you. Roll up my sleeve.”

With a dirty look at James, he stabs the cleaver into the wood by her face and she flinches. “I'll play along.”

And there's no denying the clearly human bite mark in her skin, the outline of teeth and a circular jaw.

“What's that you said?” she says gasps, “everything happens for a reason?”

His eyes fill with terror and he glances down at his hand as understanding breaks through. Tearing flesh, his blood in her mouth, his own bite mark hidden under the dirty gauze.

“What the fuck is that?” James has caught sight of the scar and he's backing away, suddenly unsure of his leader.

“It's not real. She'd have turned by now,” David snarls, his eyes glinting maliciously but his expression uncertain.

“Looks pretty fucking real to me!”

Seizing her chance, Kara reaches for the cleaver and slices it through the air. It severs James's carotid artery and he falls to the ground in a spray of blood, hands clutching his neck. Rolling sideways, she barely manages to dodge David's bullet, the shot deafening her as she drops to her hands and knees.

“You bitch!” He yells after as she grabs her knife from a table by the door and leaps out the window into the white blizzard. “Where you going, Kara?”

His taunting chases her into the next building when she stabs a man in the neck from behind, stealing his gun and pushing onward. The wind tears and her face and hands and snow blinds her every few seconds, but she keeps running, not sure if she's headed back toward Lena or getting herself surrounded.

She's not even sure if Lena is still alive.

Finding an open window, she slips in, shivering from the winter wind, but David is waiting for her.

His first kick sends her stumbling back, scrambling for cover as he stalks toward her. “You're easy to track,” he says cockily, whistling as he walks among the tables. “I gotta admit, Kara. You have me back there for a second. Shook my faith.”

A bullet splinters the wooden chair beside her and she cringes away, trying to circle around him.

“You know, Kara, if you give yourself up now I'll make sure you're treated well. I'll take care of you,” he wheedles, his voice dripping with honey. “I can't promise much for your...friend, but you'll be treated like a princess.”

“Fuck you,” she mutters, crouching below the level of the tables. She knows he's getting closer, can hear his heavy footsteps, and she skirts around to get behind him.

He's ten yards away, then five, but right before she leaps for him he turns and his fist connects with the side of her face.

She gets in a few good hits of her own but his strength gives him an advantage and when she lunges for him a fourth time, he grabs her and goes with the momentum, sending them both backward over a table and onto the hard floor below.

“You fucker,” he pants, shoving her into a table so quickly it hits her ribs like a truck.“I think it's time you met my friend James.”

“Yeah, I've met James,” she gasps painfully, one hand holding her ribs. “I cut his fucking head off.”

“No, you didn't.”

She turns around so quickly it makes her head spin because there's no mistaking that voice. It can't be possible and she wonders if she hit her head too hard while fighting with David, if maybe she's concussed, but no. This nightmare is real and bearing down on her, fast.

Standing right behind her is Andrea's husband.

* * *

“Kara?”

Her heart is in her throat, worry making her sick. The only traces of human life have been corpses and a trail of blood, and as time passes the scenario in her head gets worse and worse.

“Kara?”

Seeing a garage up ahead she forces the door open with a sore shoulder, grimacing at the moment of impact.

The sight that greets her is horrific. Desiccated bodies hang from the ceiling, meat hooks digging into human flesh. The cold breeze follows her in and they swing slowly, gaunt faces staring at her with empty eyes and missing limbs.

“Kara!”

All higher thought disappears from her mind, panic making her scramble back. If she doesn't get to her in time these barbarians could strip her bare, and Lena won't be able to stop herself from killing any and every living thing in sight.

“ _Kara!”_

* * *

“Hey, kid,” James grins, waving a gun with a casual air. Kara's eyes dart around the room, looking for an escape.

“I don't think so.” David's hard body collides with her back as she stumbles, his hand catching her elbow. When she tries to pull away he only tightens his grip and she swallows a mouthful of sweat and blood, wracking her brain for a way to get out of the situation.

“You joined them,” she says dumbly, staring at James.

“Sure I did. I was looking for Lena and it just so happened that these guys here were too.”

“Are you trying to kill us?”

Raising the pistol to eye level and aiming at Kara's head, James grins. “Now why would I kill you? I'm trying to get on Lena's good side,” he says sarcastically, and David's body rumbles with laughter.

“You're doing a bang-up job,” Kara says thickly, freezing in the crosshairs. _I'll kill myself before I let them torture me to death._

“I am aren't I,” James taunts, then shoots David between the eyes.

“Jesus!” Throwing herself forward at James in reaction, Kara doesn't even realize what's happened until large arms are holding her up and she sees David's body on the ground, blood leaking from a hole in his head. “Jesus.”

“Where's Lena?”

Shaking her head at James's rough tone, Kara pushes him away. “I'm not telling you,” she says emphatically, inspecting a cut on her leg in the light from a window. “What are you doing here anyway?” The memory of how cold Lena was when she kissed her haunts her and she presses a finger into the cut to force herself to stay lucid. The pain bites at her like an icy wind and she blinks the world back into focus.

“I told you, I'm looking for Lena."

“So you join up with these fuckers and stage some kind of rescue and think she'll suddenly run to you?”

A steely glint in his eye makes her wish she hadn't said anything but he just repeats his question.

“Where's Lena?”

Recognizing that he did actually save her, Kara sighs. “I don't know. Honestly. The last time I saw her she was sleeping and then these goons captured me. Ended up going farther then I'd like, probably a few miles.”

“So she's a few miles away?”

“Yeah, maybe." _If she's even still alive._ "Why? It's not like she even knows where I am. I have to go back and hope we meet up.”

“She'll find a way,” James mutters under his breath, “but a few miles gives me some time.”

He catches her completely off guard by throwing his weight at her and staggers before falling on her back, hard.

“What are you doing?!”

James isn't listening to her. He's kneeling over her, eyes raking over her body in a way that makes her want to scrub every inch of her skin. When she scrambles back he doesn't stop her, only responding when her knife comes at her face.

“Kara—”

“What the fuck?!”

She doesn't stop going at him and he's forced to defend himself, resulting in a short and brutal scrap that leaves Kara groggy with pain.

“This doesn't have to be unpleasant. You're what, twenty?”

She rolls, grimacing, to her hands and knees. David's machete is lying a few yards away underneath a table, the dead man's arm still reaching it and she starts to crawl in its general direction. Maybe she can frighten him off and make a plan from there, she just needs to get out of here.

“You are seriously fucked in the head, you know that?” Each breath pulls at a bruised rib and she groans through the pain. Her breath comes in little gasps and utter terror is making her progress devastatingly slow, slow enough that James regains his feet and lands a sharp kick to her already bruised ribs.

Dropping like a sack of flour, the tiled floor meets her face and adds another layer to her pain. It feels like she's breathing in broken glass, like there's a shard of it in her lung and every time she inhales it digs itself deeper into her organs.

“Don't make this harder than it has to be,” James says triumphantly, holding his own wounded shoulder. “It's okay to give up, you know.”

 _Fuck you,_ she thinks, and she slowly pulls herself forward, her legs dragging behind her. She has to get back to Lena, has to make sure she survived. If she didn't, then all of this was for nothing and Kara might as well have shot them both back at the University for all the good it did.

 _Keep going,_ she screams at herself, forcing herself through the pain, fear choking her like a noose.

James laughs faintly and then his boot strikes her ribs and she slumps to the side, coughing hard enough that blood spots her lips. Her ribs are screaming in protest and now her only thought is to die before he can do anything truly nightmarish. She can't see, can't think, can't feel anything but the searing pain and she lies there like a broken thing, struggling to breathe.

Then his legs are on either side of her and his weight is on her back. He grabs hold of her hair and yanks viciously, forcing her head up, and she howls in pain.

“You can try begging,” he snarls, stale breath hitting the side of her face.

For all her fighting she really does feel helpless and the disgusting feeling makes her limbs heavy with fear.

“Fuck you,” she chokes out, her body limp with agony as he rolls her onto her back and wraps his hands around her throat.

“You think you know me? Huh?!”

His eyes are black with desire and not for the first time she wonders if there are worse things than dying.

There are.

They're buried with her friend Lucy, Kara's bullet in her brain, and with Lena's whispered story, a story that called back so many violent memories it made the strongest person she knew sick from her own thoughts.

“You have no idea what I'm capable of,” he whispers harshly, banishing any doubt from her mind. “The things I've done.”

Her eyes widen as he reaches for his belt buckle, the word escaping from her bloody lips.

“Lena.”

That gives him pause, the first hint of fear crossing his face since she'd met him. “What? What did she tell you?”

And then her fingers close around the handle of the machete and she brings it around with a horrible strength, cutting into the side of his neck. He screams in pain and rolls off of her and she rolls with him, adjusting her grip on the weapon as he tries to duck away from her blows.

He doesn't have the space or the strength to, not with this new anger on her side. The blade comes up, down, again and again. She sees blood spraying and feels it on her face, watches as his hands, held up in a defensive position, lose their fingers and the digits fall to the floor, blood leaking from their stumps. His head magically develops rents, gashes that pump out blood and paint his skin red, and she keeps going, reducing his face to an unrecognizable, gory mush.

“Kara!”

Someone is yelling her name but she ignores it, bringing the machete up again. It bites through what's left of James's nose and she goes to repeat the motion until someone catches her around the middle. She doesn't even feel the pain of her broken ribs through the panic that floods her at the strong hands hauling her away as she screams, wordless epithets that fall on deaf ears.

Another hunter come to get what James wanted.

Or maybe she imagined David dying, maybe it's his turn.

“No! No!” She fights back, fists thrashing when the machete falls out of her hands.

“Stop, Kara! Stop!”

“Don't fucking touch me!” she screams, trying to pull herself from the grasp of this new assault. It's useless, the man is pulling her closer and closer, his long hair hitting her face, arms a relentless cage of muscle.

“It's okay! It's me!” Lena repeats over and over, wrestling Kara into her arms. “It's me!”

Trying to grab Kara's wrists proves harder than she thought, even without the flailing machete. When she finally manages to capture them in one hand Kara knocks them both onto the ground and the air gets knocked out of her lungs, making it even harder.

“Kara! Stop, it's me! It's Lena!”

Kara slows down, her blows confused and heavy at the sound of a woman's voice but she still leans away, her eyes glazed over with shock.

“Look! Look,” Lena pleads desperately, holding Kara's face in her hands as the woman tries to pull her head back, her arms hanging down by her sides. “It's me. See?”

Finally, Kara registers Lena's presence and stops fighting, but she still can't meet her eyes. Her breathing is full of tears and snot and she closes her eyes tightly, wishing away the sobs that are already coming.

“He tried to—”

Lena envelopes her in a hug, not letting her finish the sentence. It's for the best because the second she feels Lena's chest under her cheek she bursts into tears, gulping in air and holding her ribs while her sobs slowly subside.

“It's okay, baby girl. You're okay,” Lena whispers, clutching her tighter. “You're safe. It's me.” She leans back so Kara can see her face but the blonde isn't listening anymore. She stares blankly at Lena's face, the familiar eyes and nose and lips and feels herself disconnecting. Her hands are shaking and her mouth is glued shut but she meets Lena's bright green eyes, reflective with tears, and tries to hold on, nodding wordlessly at whatever the older woman is saying.

“He's gone. You're safe. You're okay.”

An empty glance over to James's body confirms this and Kara blinks, Lena's hands cupping her face.

“You're safe, too,” she says with numb lips, not seeing the effect her words have on Lena.

“What?”

“You're safe. I killed him,” she nods at the body, feeling blood drying on her face. When she goes to raise a hand to wipe it away, she finds them trapped in Lena's larger ones, her grip unbreakable.

Lena squints but of course she can't recognize the corpse, can't even see a face through the destroyed flesh. “Was he going to attack me?”

“He was looking for you,” Kara mumbles, her train of thought spinning in a dizzying circle.

“I don't understand,” Lena says slowly, squeezing Kara's hands. “Who is that, Kara.”

And Kara finally breaks through the surface of the water and sees Lena's concerned confusion, and her throat rasps as she whispers the words.

“It's James.”

Lena's eyes widen so much it would be funny if not for the stricken look she gives Kara. “What do you mean it's James?”

“I mean he followed us here and he tried to—he was going to—I didn't have a choice.” The words tumble out in a rush because as it hits her that she's killed someone Lena's known her whole life. She had asked Kara not to once before, but that was a thing of the past and James was lying, dead, not five feet away. “I didn't have a choice.”

She struggles to meet Lena's gaze, wishing she could pry an answer from the reserved woman but nothing is forthcoming and she deliriously wonders if Lena is going to leave her as punishment.

“We're okay,” is all the brunette says as Kara's blinks get slower and slower. “We're okay.”

The pain in every inch of her body and the sudden absence of adrenaline hit her like a ton of bricks and the last thing she feels is Lena lifting her in her arms before she floats away.


End file.
